Chapter One: Smoke and Secrets

Ashes of Midnight

Chapter One: Smoke and Secrets

The music pulsed like a heartbeat inside La Sombra, Barcelona’s most infamous underground club. Lights flickered across sweat-slicked skin and clinking glasses. Sofia Reyes moved behind the bar like she owned the place—because in many ways, she did. Not officially, but with her sharp wit, fast hands, and that crimson dress that clung like second skin, she ruled the room.

“Two vodka tonics. And smile, cariño, or people will think I’ve insulted you,” her coworker Marta teased, sliding over the order.

Sofia smirked. “I’ll smile when men stop thinking a tip is a phone number.”

Just then, the door creaked open against the pounding storm outside. Lightning cracked behind a tall figure in black. Rain dripped from his leather jacket as he stepped inside, scanning the room like he expected trouble.

He walked to the bar, eyes locked on Sofia.

“Whiskey. Neat.”

She arched a brow. “No ‘please’? Must be Italian.”

He cracked a half-smile. “Guilty.”

“Name?” she asked, pouring the drink.

“Luca Moretti.”

She handed him the glass. “Sofia. Don’t start a fight in here.”

“I never start them,” he said, taking a sip. “But I always finish them.”

Luca took a slow sip of his whiskey, never taking his eyes off her. The tension between them crackled like static in the thick, pulsing air of La Sombra.

“You work here every night?” he asked, voice low, gravel-soft.

Sofia leaned on the counter, arms crossed under her chest. “You interested in my schedule, or are you just really bad at flirting?”

“I don’t flirt,” he said.

“That much is clear,” she said, smirking.

He studied her for a beat, then looked down at his drink. “You always wear red?”

She arched an eyebrow. “You always ask questions like a cop?”

That made him chuckle—just barely. “Just observant. Red suits you.”

Before she could reply, a crash came from the back hallway. Shouting followed—two male voices, one of them panicked.

Sofia instantly straightened, her entire posture changing. Less bartender, more… soldier. She motioned for Marta to cover the bar and disappeared through the back door.

Luca was on her heels.

“Didn’t peg you as the nosy type,” she said as they walked down the dim corridor.

“Didn’t peg you as the type who walks toward trouble,” he countered.

“I don’t walk toward it,” she said, pulling open a side door. “I handle it.”

Inside, a skinny teenage boy had another guy pinned to the wall, shouting in rapid Spanish. Something about “debts” and “orders.”

“¡Basta!” Sofia barked.

Both froze. She stepped between them like a storm on legs.

“Luis, you don’t bring this shit into my club,” she snapped.

“He owes—” the boy started.

“I said not here,” she growled. “You want to survive in this city? Learn when and where to be a problem.”

The other man scrambled away as she turned to Luis.

“Go home. Don’t come back tonight.”

Luis looked like he wanted to argue—then saw the fire in her eyes. He left without another word.

Sofia exhaled hard and leaned against the wall. Luca stood behind her, arms crossed.

“Well,” he said, “that was… instructive.”

She turned her head toward him. “What did you learn?”

“That you’re more than just a bartender.”

“And what are you, Luca?” she asked, eyes narrowing. “Besides broody and in everyone’s business?”

He stepped closer, his presence filling the small room.

“I’m someone who can tell when a woman’s in danger—even when she pretends she’s not.”

Sofia’s jaw clenched. “You don’t know me.”

“Not yet,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. “But I will.”

They stood inches apart, heat thick between them. Her breath caught for just a second—and she hated that he noticed.

Then she turned on her heel and walked away, heels clicking against the floor like a dare.

Luca watched her go, a smirk curling at the edge of his mouth.

Trouble, he thought.

And I just stepped right into it.

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