Deadly desires: the Donna's obsession.

Scarlett stirred, the faint morning light creeping through the heavy curtains, casting long golden beams across the luxurious suite.

Her limbs felt heavier than usual, her muscles deliciously sore.

She groaned softly, stretching against the plush mattress.

Her thoughts felt all foggy, memories from the previous night flitting through her mind like pieces of a fragmented dream. It wasn't often she felt this way—utterly drained, yet strangely content.

Her hand instinctively reached to the space beside her, searching for warmth. But her fingers were only met with the cool empty sheet, making her eyes immediately snapped open.

"What the hell..." she muttered, rubbing her eyes when she saw the empty space.

She pushed herself up, the sheet slipping off her bare shoulders as her sharp gaze darted around the room, scanning every corner.

But nothing.

There was not even a stray shirt.

The room was perfectly empty, the indent on the pillow barely even there, as though he hadn't bothered staying long enough to even leave a proper mark.

"He's...gone?" She muttered.

Her jaw tightened, and a sharp laugh escaped her lips.

"He left, he really left," she murmured, the words tasting bitter as they rolled off her tongue.

She swung her legs over the edge of the bed, not caring that she was completely naked; shame wasn't an emotion she entertained.

Her gaze swept the room, searching for any sign of him.

But it remained the same.

Nothing.

The bastard had vanished without so much as a note or a goodbye.

Her fists clenched at her sides, her nails digging into her palms as anger simmered in her chest.

Who the fuck does he think he is?

She wasn't some casual fling, some disposable distraction.

She was Scarlett Voss, the woman who decided when and where things ended.

Her eyes caught something glinting on the nightstand, immediately halting her spiraling thoughts.

The mask.

It sat there, mocking her.

She reached for it, her fingers brushing against the cool metal.

"How thoughtful. A parting gift."

The tension in her chest tightened, her grip on the mask hard enough to leave imprints of on her skin.

How dare him leave!

She couldn't decide whether to be furious or impressed.

How many people dared to walk away from her? How many had the guts to vanish without her permission? People didn't even have the right to die without her permission.

And yet, he had ran.

"Oh, you've made a mistake, sweetheart. If you think you can leave me you better think again."

She reached for the robe draped over a nearby chair and slipped it on, tying the belt loosely around her waist.

She was halfway to the door, ready to storm downstairs and interrogate the front desk when her phone suddenly buzzed sharply from the nightstand.

She froze, her gaze snapping to the device.

Crossing the room in quick strides, she grabbed it and glanced at the caller ID.

Luca.

She sighed, tapping the screen before pressing it to her ear.

"Where the hell are you?" came Luca's sharp voice, clearly annoyed. His tone was far from the respectful one he used when others were around.

Scarlett rolled her eyes. "Good morning to you too."

"Don't give me that crap," he snapped. "Do you know what time it is? You've got thirty minutes to get your ass downstairs. Have you forgotten today is your first day at Valmont High?"

Scarlett pinched the bridge of her nose. Of course. The goddamn mission, she had totally forgotten about it.

"Of course not," she denied.

"Then quit playing games and move. You're not a fucking tourist."

Her grip on the phone tightened, her nails pressing against the glass screen. "I'll be down in twenty."

"You've got fifteen."

Her jaw tightened. "Testing me this early in the morning, Luca?"

"Your time starts now!"

Before she could retort, the line went dead.

Scarlett glared at the phone as if she could will it to explode.

The nerve!

She tossed it onto the bed and ran a hand through her tangled hair, her thoughts colliding.

"Of all the mornings to pull this stunt."

Her gaze flicked to the mask on the nightstand, and she let out a dry laugh.

Guess her mystery man would have to wait.

That high school prick better just be worth it.

She turned toward the bathroom, her bare feet tapping against the floor.

Pausing in the doorway, she glanced back at the bed.

The image of him flashed in her mind again, his hands gripping her hips, his mismatched eyes locked on hers.

Her lips curled into a slow smile.

"You're mine, darling. And you don't even know it yet."

With that, she stepped into the bathroom, the door swinging shut behind her.

---

Valmont High stood like a jewel on the outskirts of Las Vegas, a gleaming testament to its wealth and exclusivity.

Its sleek glass panels reflected the endless Nevada sun, creating sharp, angular shadows that sliced across the manicured grounds.

With sprawling concrete walkways and palm trees so perfectly trimmed they could've been painted into place, the campus felt more like a luxury resort than a school. It was the kind of place where the kids of CEOs and politicians went to mingle, far from the chaos of the real world.

Luxury cars rolled into the student lot one by one, their polished bodies gleaming like jewels in the sun.

Teslas, Range Rovers, and the occasional Porsche lined up in perfect rows. Kids poured out of them, wearing the same pristine uniforms and bored expressions.

The air smelled expensive, like designer cologne, fresh leather, and steaming coffee cups from overpriced cafés.

Then, like a pack of predators announcing their arrival, the growls of multiple engines suddenly broke through the noise.

A convoy rolled into the driveway with the kind of entrance that demanded attention.

The gleaming black cars—Lamborghini, Rolls-Royce, and Cadillac SUVs—moved in perfect formation, their engines growling low.

The sunlight caught on their polished surfaces, blinding anyone who dared to look directly at them.

As the cars came to a synchronized stop, the doors of the lead vehicle swung open, and out stepped a tall man in a fitted black suit.

His jet-black hair was slicked back, his olive skin glinting under the sunlight. Luca. His sharp jawline and piercing blue eyes could've graced a magazine cover, but there was a quiet ruthlessness in the way he carried himself that made it clear he was no model.

He adjusted his cufflinks as he made his way around the car, his gaze sweeping the crowd of gawking students with thinly veiled disdain. When he reached the back door, he paused, took a breath like he was about to present a masterpiece, and pulled it open.

"Queen," he bowed.

One stiletto heel hit the pavement, followed by its twin, and then Scarlett emerged.

She didn't just step out—she commanded the space.

Her black sunglasses obscured her sharp eyes, but nothing could hide the aura of power that clung to her like a shadow.

She wore a blood-red jumpsuit that clung to her every curve, paired with a black blazer that hung effortlessly off her shoulders. Around her neck was a delicate gold chain, a subtle reminder that elegance and danger could coexist.

In her hand was a leather leash, and at the other end were two hulking Tibetan Mastiffs, stepping out of the car. The beasts moved with a predatory grace, their massive paws silent on the pavement as they flanked her. Their dark, shaggy fur glistened under the sun, and their glowing eyes swept the crowd like they were picking their next targets.

Behind her, a dozen men in black suits poured out of the other cars.

They fell into formation behind her, standing like a silent, immovable wall. The way they moved screamed precision, discipline, and danger.

Scarlett adjusted her sunglasses, the barest hint of a smirk playing on her lips. The air surrounding her was electric, crackling with a silent command: Look, but don't touch.

And, of course, they did look.

"Who the hell is that?" someone whispered.

"Did she just step out of a motorcade?"

"Is she, like, famous or something?"

"Are those...Tibetan Mastiffs? What the fuck is happening?"

Her smirk widened, but she didn't spare them a glance. She strode forward, her heels clicking against the pavement in a rhythm that dared anyone to interrupt her.

But then, of course, someone did.

"Excuse me!" A saccharine voice suddenly rang out.

Scarlett's steps slowed, and she turned her head just enough to see the source of the interruption.

A blonde girl, pretty in that overly polished, too-perfect way was standing with her hands on her hips, her designer purse dangling from her arm like a badge of honor.

Oh, great. A high school queen bee.

Why were they always blonde? Was it in the job description or something?

"Can I help you?" Scarlett asked coldly.

"I don't know if you're lost or just confused," the girl said, her smile as sharp as a knife, "but this is Valmont High, not some...Mafia convention."

Scarlett blinked, her smirk freezing for a second before it stretched wider.

Luca looked between the two. Oh, this looked interesting.

Scarlett tilted her head, sliding her sunglasses down just enough to reveal her dark, piercing eyes. "And you are?"

"Aria Laurent," the girl replied, her voice oozing with pride. "The principal's daughter."

Scarlett grinned. "How cute. Daddy let you play princess for the day?"

Aria's eyes narrowed, but before she could retort, the sound of hurried footsteps suddenly filled the air.

The principal himself, a short, balding man with wire-rimmed glasses, appeared from the building, his face pale and glistening with sweat.

"Signora Voss!" he exclaimed, nearly tripping over himself as he descended the stairs.

Aria's mouth fell open. "Daddy?"

He came to a stop before Scarlett and dipped into a bow so low it bordered on groveling. "It's an honor to have you here. If there's anything you need, please don't hesitate to..."

Scarlett didn't even look at him, instead she turned to one of her men, handing him the leashes of the Mastiffs.

"Take them to the estate. They seem to be scaring the children."

The man gulped, nodding his head. "As you wish."

The Mastiffs growled softly but obediently followed him as he led them away.

Scarlett watched them go for a moment before finally turning back to Luca. "Shall we?"

"Of course, queen," Luca replied, falling into step beside her.

"Yes, yes. Come in!" the principal awkwardly stammered, stepping aside to let her pass.

Scarlett walked into the building without a second glance, leaving Aria's face a deep shade of red.

They entered the school, the crowd parting like the Red Sea as she strode through the lobby.

The polished floors gleamed under the harsh lighting, and the murmur of whispers followed her like a trail of smoke.

Her gaze swept the hallway, cataloging every single detail.

The students looked polished and preened, their uniforms crisp and their expressions filled with varying degrees of awe and fear.

And then, she saw him.

Leaning casually against a row of lockers, arms crossed and looking like sin personified, was a boy. No. A man.

At first, it was the eyes, one as dark as midnight, the other a vivid, burning red. They were unmistakable, even from a distance.

Her breath caught, her steps faltering for the first time since she arrived.

She knew those eyes. She'd spent the night staring into them, tracing the face that held them, memorizing every detail.

It was him.

Her mystery man from the casino.

And then, just as she was about to say something, Aria's voice rang out from behind her.

"Killian!"

Scarlett's head whipped around, her expression a mask of shock and disbelief.

The boy turned, his red eye catching the light as he smirked at Aria.

Scarlett's stomach twisted into knots as the pieces fell into place.

Killian Black.

Her target.

Her mark.

The boy she was supposed to manipulate, control, and ultimately kill.

She had slept with him.

Wait that wasn't even the most important part.

'I had given my first time, to an eighteen-year-old dick head!'