THE MAFIA'S KITTEN

EPISODE 7: THE 'RESTROOM'

"Lost your way, Diana?"

​She spun around. It was Dante. He was standing there, leaning against the wall, watching her with that same dangerous smirk. He wasn't in his office anymore. He had followed her.

​"I... I was looking for the restroom, sir. The halls are a bit confusing," she said, trying to make her voice sound small and lost.

​Dante walked toward her, closing the gap until he was standing right in her space. He was much taller than her, and his scent was everywhere. He reached out and touched a strand of her hair, tucking it behind her ear.

​"The restroom is the other way," he whispered, his voice vibrating in her chest. "This way leads to things that get people killed. You're a smart girl, right? Don't let your curiosity get you into trouble on your first day."

​Diana looked up at him, her heart hammering against her ribs. For a second, she thought about pulling the hidden blade from her thigh and ending it right there. But his hand moved from her hair to her chin, tilting her face up.

​"Go back to your desk, Diana," he said, his eyes darkening. "And stay there."

​She didn't wait for him to say it again. She turned and walked back, her mind racing. He was playing with her. He was suspicious, but he was also attracted to her. It was a deadly game of cat and mouse, and for the first time, Diana wasn't sure who was the cat.

​As she sat back down at her desk, she realized the job just got a lot harder. She wasn't just fighting a mafia boss; she was fighting a man who seemed to see right through her....

**10 mins later**

Diana sat at her desk, her fingers flying across the keyboard, but she wasn’t actually seeing the words on the screen. Her mind was stuck on that hallway, the smell of his tobacco, the coldness of his warning, and the way he looked at her like he already knew her deepest secrets.

​She needed to get a message out. The Night Owl Organisation was expecting an update, and if she didn’t report soon, Antonio would think she was dead or, worse, that she had turned. But every time she even reached for her personal phone, she felt the weight of the cameras in the room watching her every move.

​The office door opened, and Dante walked back in. He didn't say a word about the hallway. He just sat at his desk and started signing papers as if he hadn't just threatened her life ten minutes ago.

​"Diana," he said suddenly, not looking up. "Pack your things. We’re leaving."

​Diana froze. "Leaving, sir? Is there a meeting?"

​Dante finally looked up, his dark eyes unreadable. "There’s a gala tonight at the Oakhaven Heights. High-profile, very expensive, and very dangerous. My usual assistant is... unavailable. You’ll be coming with me as my date. It’ll be a good test to see if you can actually handle the high life you claimed to know on your resume."

​Diana’s heart skipped a beat. A gala meant she would be out in the open, but it also meant she would be surrounded by Dante’s enemies, and maybe even her own people. "I don't have anything to wear for a gala, sir," she said, trying to sound like a worried secretary.

​"Already taken care of," Dante replied, gesturing to a large black box on the sofa that she hadn't noticed before. "Change in the private restroom. We leave in thirty minutes."

​When Diana opened the box, she gasped. It was a silk dress, the color of deep red wine, almost like blood. It was beautiful, but it was also a message. He wanted her to stand out. He wanted everyone to see her.

​Thirty minutes later, Diana stepped out. The dress hugged her body perfectly, and she had let her hair down in soft waves, though she kept her "Diana" glasses on to maintain her disguise. She felt exposed without her tactical gear, but she had managed to hide a small, razor-sharp wire in her bracelet.

​Dante was waiting by the door. When he saw her, he stopped breathing for a split second. He walked over, his eyes scanning her from head to toe.

​"Red suits you," he whispered, his voice sending a shiver down her spine. He leaned in closer, his lips almost touching her ear. "But remember the rules, Diana. You stay by my side. You don't wander off to 'find the restroom' again. In that room tonight, you are mine. If anyone asks, you’re the most important thing in my life."

​"Is that part of the act, sir?" Diana asked, her voice braver than she felt.

​Dante smirked, that dangerous, sharp look returning to his face. "In my world, the line between an act and reality is very thin. Don't get lost in it."

​He offered his arm, and Diana took it. As they walked toward the elevator, she realized she was walking into a trap, but she didn't know if she was the bait or the hunter anymore. She was entering the den of the dragon, dressed in the color of his favorite sin.

​The gala was just beginning, but the war was already silently raging.

​TBC...