Alessandro’s POV~

“When is he coming?” I ask Damien lighting up my cigar.

I take a drag, and put the stick between my index and middle finger, puffing out the smoke.

He looks at his watch. “In an hour, if everything goes right.” Picking up the bottle of beer from the table, he takes a sip. “Are you going to kill him?” He sits up straight, clasping his hands together on the table.

“No, that will be easy. He needs to learn a lesson.”

“That will be fun.” His eyes gleam with mischief. Leaning back in the chair, he takes another sip from the beer bottle.

I nod my head at him, and continue smoking.

“Why are you not drinking, by the way?” He points the bottle at me.

“One of us have to be sober to welcome them.”

“Bullshit! You can have beer, and still stay sober.” He rotates the chair in which he is sitting.

“Unlike you, I do not prefer beer. I like it strong when I go for alcohol.”

I take a long drag, and stamp out the rest of the cigar in the ashtray. Buttoning up my suit jacket, I get up and stand in front of the floor to ceiling window of the second floor of my club, showcasing the nightlife of New York.

I rule different fields of business. Both legal and illegal. Construction, telecommunications, textile, airlines. I own a chain of hotels, casinos, clubs, pubs, resorts, shopping malls and theatres in the States and around the globe. ‘Re della Notte’ is the best nightclub among them and I do not tolerate someone messing with it.

I pinch the bridge of my nose as a dull ache forms at the back of my head.

Success always comes with stress.

I do not dislike alcohol, but I am not here to party and drink it away. That is not the reason why we are here tonight.

Francesco got an information, that there is going to be a raid tonight. Apparently, the new police officer does not know about us, or he would not have thought about such a stupid thing.

I am ready give him a warm welcome, though.

“Fuck!” Damien curses at something. “You should have a look here, man.”

That makes me turn around.

I walk back, and stand beside him, looking at what he is watching with so much interest. Following his line of vision, I see the dance stage on the ground floor. The mirror on our side is transparent, and translucent on the other, so we can see outside, but people from outside can not clearly see us.

“What?” I ask him, getting impatient.

“Look at her.” He points to somewhere at the dance floor, and I check.

Yes. There is a girl dancing. Not exactly dancing. She is just swaying her body from side to side, and that is sensual as fuck.

“We should give her an offer to be a stripper in one of our clubs. The way she is dancing, she will definitely make a lot.” Damien proceeds further, but I zone him out.

My full concentration is on the girl right now. I can not take my eyes off of her as she continues dancing, unaware of my gaze.

🎶

How dare you have lips like that?

How dare you gon’ kiss like that?

How dare you make use of it?

🎶

It feels as if the song being played is only made for her. Every damn line is. Her wavy blonde hair hides her face from me.

I would give anything right now just to have her look at me for once, to see this seductress and the lyrics are not helping my situation either.

🎶

Touch me in the way that you do

No matter who’s in the room

I see you sweatin’ when you feel it, going full out, baby

🎶

With every move she makes, I feel my muscles tense up involuntarily. Now that is something new. No one has ever affected me this much just by a simple dance. Not even with a lap dance. She does not even have to touch me to have my attention.

She drags her hands up and down her figure and god, I have not seen a scene so erotic in my life and that has to say something.

I have never seen someone dance so gracefully, yet with so much sexiness. She is dancing without a care in the world. But the best part is she is not dancing to attract others even when all eyes are on her. She is dancing for herself. I can see how much she is enjoying the moment. It is in the way she moves.

For the entire time she dances, my eyes are on her only. My mind seems to blur everything in the background, and solely focus on her, my eyes drinking in her every feature and darkening with each second.

Somewhere in the middle of the song, she stops dancing, as if feeling my gaze on her. She looks around herself. Finding no one, she stares at the first floor. Still no one. Then her gaze climbs up to where I am standing, and the moment her eyes clash with mine, my eyes turn the darkest shade of brown possible.

Her eyes! Fuck, those eyes!

She is the same girl who treated my arm that night. The one who made me save the man I ordered to kill and if I had any thought of considering Damien’s idea before, I have none now. She is not that kind of girl.

Looks like wherever she goes, she grabs everyone’s attention. Just like now.

But what I do not understand is why she keeps popping up wherever I am.

As I am looking at her with darkened eyes, she stares back at me. Seems like she can not look away from my eyes to see my face.

Good.

I do not want her to recognise me. I do not want her to know that I was the one who was shamelessly gawking at her just now while she was dancing. She is a chatterbox. She will not stop about this.

We keep staring at each other. As if in a trance.

Neither do I look away.

Nor does she.

The world around us seems to freeze. Time seems to stop.

Whatever this is, I do not like it, but I can not back out from it either.

A girl from behind her calls her name, breaking the spell and sparing me the awkwardness of her finally remembering me.

She turns around, giving her back to us. When I look beside me Damien is not there anymore. He is on the phone.

He hangs up and looks at me. “He will be here anytime.”

“We should not make them wait then.” I take my phone from the table, and get out of the room, Damien following behind closely.

--×--

We are sitting at the end of the bar, looking at the entrance, waiting for our guest.

“Alessandro?” Someone calls out my name, gaining our attention which surprises me because mot many people here know my name except the staff.

I look up at the source of the voice and…

Her.

Again.

How she is always so enthusiastic is beyond of my knowledge.

I do not know what it is about tonight that makes want to look at her in a different light. Like I have not before. Like actually look. Not just see. But not like a pervert.

Never like that. Like a man looks at a woman.

Dare I say, his woman.

She is wearing a crop top and mini skirt, both black and her smooth legs seem to go for miles. The top has left her flat stomach and slim waist bare, the curve of it just fit for my hands, widening at the hips. Her soft fair skin is asking to be marked with rosy hues. Her figure is the definition of perfect. Not too thick to notice. Not too skinny like models. Just enough to make any man go down on their knees and beg.

In contrast with her body, her face is that of an angel’s. Innocent like an infant. Her big hazel orbs, peeking from underneath her eyelashes, have honey specks around them, shining like the much needed sunlight on a lone winter morning, chasing away the sadness and negativity after a dark night. Her long black eyelashes, kissing her cheek bones every time she blinks, seem to hide secrets under their curtain which I will unravel taking my sweet time. Her cheeks filling up every time she smiles, letting those damn cute dimples pop out and making her look even cuter. Her small button nose enhancing her cuteness. Her pink plump, and luscious lips turning red each time she bites hard. Her silky blonde hair bouncing on her shoulders, and the rest cascading down her back in beautiful waves.

All in all she is made to sin and worship at the same time. A deadly combination. Not for men with weak hearts. But for men like me who beat death on a regular basis.

“Hey, smart mouth!” Damien smirks at her, breaking my chain of inappropriate thoughts.

“I have a name.” She grits her teeth.

“Can not be better than smart mouth, though.” His smirk widens.

“Can I sit here?” She slumps down on the stool in front of us, completely ignoring him.

“You already have.” Damien replies which makes her furrow her brows at him.

I guess Damien likes irritating her which is not something new for him. It is his habit. He likes irritating people, including Francesco and I. I do not get riled up easily, but Francesco does. He would have killed Damien by now if not for me.

“Hii, Alessandro.” She turns her eyes back to me, maybe realising that I did not acknowledge her.

“Hello, Angel.” I do not know why that nickname just slips out of my mouth. But I can not take it back now, so I will have to stick to it.

“Angel?” She looks amused, hearing this. “I already have a bunch of nicknames.” She seems to think for a while. “Anyway it is close to my name so….I think it is good.” She then smiles at me.

See, chatterbox.

Damien elbows my ribs from beside. “Angel? Not bad.” The shit-eating grin on his stupid face seems to split it in half.

I stare at her, not giving him what he wants. A reaction.

“I forgot to thank you for my car, and purse the last time we met. Everything was in its place.” She smiles widely at me, not a trace of the sexy girl dancing on the floor minutes ago.

I give her a nod, not feeling like talking.

She talks too much for my liking. It is ridiculous how I still find her attractive. I blame this on the club ambiance, and her goddamn outfit.

“Dare soprannomi, huh? Primo passo per ottenere il suo in letto?” He never stops.

(Giving out nicknames. First step to get her in bed?)

This fucker!

I turn to him, glaring daggers and he just cracks up laughing.

“Cosa vuoi per stare zitto?”

(What will you take to shut up?)

“Il tuo angelo.” He laughs more.

(Your Angel.)

She looks at us weirdly, hearing the word ‘angelo’, guessing that we are taking about her since there is no other angel.

Just then, a loud sound goes off which I am too familiar with, followed by people screaming and rushing everywhere. The entrance of the club is suddenly closed.

Show time!