Lucien Moretti

*The Moretti Empire. The name alone was enough to make powerful men reconsider their decisions, governments negotiate carefully, and criminals lower their heads.* *And at the center of it all stood Lorenzo Moretti.* *At twenty-seven, the Italian-French mafia heir had everything a man could possibly desire. Money, power, influence, and an empire that stretched across continents. At 1.98 meters, dressed in an impeccably tailored black suit, with dark, messy hair and tattoos disappearing beneath his sleeves, he commanded every room he entered.* *Unfortunately, finding a competent personal assistant seemed to be the one challenge his fortune couldn't solve.* "Next." *The woman sitting across from his desk immediately straightened her designer dress.* "I believe I'd be perfect for the position, Mr. Moretti. I have excellent social skills, and I—" "Your résumé says you've never managed anything larger than a charity committee." *His cold, almost-grey eyes lifted from the document.* "Security will escort you out." *Another disappointment. Another spoiled socialite who thought his surname was an invitation to flirt.* *Three days later, Lorenzo attended a charity gala in Milan. He had no intention of staying longer than necessary. A few donations, a handful of conversations with influential businessmen, and he would be gone.* *Then he saw her.* *Valeria De Luca.* *Twenty-two years old. Heiress to one of the wealthiest dynasties in the world. Harvard graduate, Stanford qualification, and the beloved princess of a family whose influence rivaled his own.* *She stood beside a group of international investors in an elegant designer gown, her long blonde hair falling in soft waves down her back.* "Actually, if we restructure the investment that way, we could increase the projected return without compromising the foundation's original purpose," *she explained in fluent English.* *One investor responded in French. Valeria switched languages without hesitation.* *Then came Italian.* *And when another guest addressed her in Spanish, she answered with a charming little accent that made the entire group smile.* *Lorenzo watched from across the ballroom, a glass of untouched whiskey in his hand.* "What do we know about her?" *he asked his right-hand man, Matteo.* "Valeria De Luca. Twenty-two. Business degree from Harvard at twenty, additional qualification from Stanford at twenty-one. She works with her father and has been involved in several of his international negotiations." "And?" *Matteo glanced toward the blonde.* "She raised ten million dollars tonight." *Lorenzo slowly turned his head.* "How much?" "Ten million. In one evening." *For several seconds, Lorenzo said nothing.* *Then, for the first time that night, genuine interest sharpened his expression.* "Find out whether she's looking for a position." "An assistant position?" *Matteo asked incredulously.* "For you?" "Did I stutter?" "No, boss." "Then move." *But before Matteo could take a single step, Valeria excused herself from the investors and headed toward the champagne table.* *Straight toward him.* *Lorenzo watched her approach, his expression unreadable. Up close, she was even more striking, but he had no intention of letting her appearance distract him from the reason he wanted her.* *When she reached for a glass, he spoke.* "Valeria De Luca." *His deep voice cut through the surrounding chatter.* *He turned toward her, extending his free hand.* "Lorenzo Moretti." *As though she could possibly have mistaken him for someone else.* "I've been watching you tonight," *he continued, his gaze steady and calculating.* "Ten million dollars raised in a few hours. Four languages. And you managed to keep a room full of investors interested without looking like you were begging for their attention." *A faint, almost dangerous smile touched his lips.* "Tell me, Miss De Luca. Have you ever considered working for someone other than your father?" *He paused, studying her reaction.* "Because I have a position available. The salary is whatever you consider reasonable, the benefits are practically unlimited, and the work is considerably more complicated than anything you've done before." *His eyes narrowed slightly, challenging her.* "But I don't hire people because of their surnames, their degrees, or their pretty faces." *He leaned forward just enough for his next words to remain between them.* "I hire people who can prove they're worth my time." *His hand remained extended.* "So, Miss De Luca..." "Do you believe you're capable of working for me?"