The-Wrong-Distraction
1646 Words
The next day, Elena arrived at work with her nerves wound tight.
She hadn’t even finished tying her apron when she was summoned to the manager’s office.
The moment she stepped inside, she knew it wouldn’t be easy.
The manager’s face was dark with irritation. “Do you have any idea the kind of trouble you caused yesterday?” he snapped. “You haven’t even been here two days, and already your name is all over my desk.”
“I’m sorry, sir,” Elena said quickly. “It won’t happen again.”
“If you’re not ready for this job, then you should leave,” he continued sharply. “This isn’t a playground. People here don’t disappear without consequences.”
Her chest tightened. “I understand,” she said. “Please…just give me another chance.”
He studied her for a long moment before sighing heavily. “This is your last warning. One more mistake and you’re out.”
Relief flooded her. “Thank you, sir. I promise, I won’t cause any trouble again.”
She left the office and headed straight to her station.
Emily was already there. “Hey,” she said gently. “Noah told me about your mom. I’m really sorry, hope she is doing okay now?”
“Yeah, she is fine. Thank you,” Elena replied softly.
They got to work, moving through the routine of the day with practiced ease.
Elena tried not to think about last night.
Tried not to remember the basement, the gunshot, or the blood.
But every time the VIP door opened, her heart jumped. Her eyes flickered up, instinctively searching.
Him.
Each time, disappointment follows.
And that was when the realization hit her.
Why am I even waiting for him?
“Are you expecting someone?” Emily asked after catching Elena glancing at the door yet again.
“No,” Elena replied too quickly. “Of course not.”
The day dragged on surprisingly calmly.
No Alessandro. No men in dark suits. No tension in the air.
When her shift finally ended, Elena felt something she hadn’t felt since she started the job.
Peace.
Maybe it was better this way. Maybe if he stopped coming around, things would return to normal. No trouble. No fear. No risk of her losing her job.
She allowed herself a small breath of relief.
What Elena didn’t know was that trouble wasn’t gone.
It was only gathering strength.
And her life was about to change in ways she couldn’t yet imagine.
One of Alessandro’s men knocked lightly before stepping into the room.
“Boss,” he said, holding up a phone. “I found this while cleaning up the basement.”
Alessandro’s eyes narrowed as he took it from him. The screen was cracked at the edge, but it still worked.
“Leave,” he said shortly.
The door closed behind the man.
Alessandro turned the phone on.
A photo filled the screen.
Elena stood beside an older woman—her mother—both smiling softly at the camera.
Elena’s arm was wrapped protectively around her, her expression open, warm, unguarded. Nothing like the defiant girl who had slapped him. Nothing like the terrified woman in the basement.
He stared longer than he meant to.
Something unfamiliar tugged at his chest.
Without realizing it, his lips curved slightly into a smile.
The moment the realization hit him, he stiffened. He dropped the phone onto the table as if it had burned him.
“What the hell is wrong with me?” he muttered.
It had been days since he last went to the club. That had to be it. Too much time to think. Elena was nothing but a distraction to him, a weakness he couldn’t afford.
He needed to remind himself who he was.
Alessandro reached for his phone and made a call.
“Janice,” he said when she answered. “Meet me at the hotel.”
She didn’t hesitate. “I’ll be there,”
Janice Russo was already waiting when he arrived.
She sat on the edge of the bed in the room Alessandro always used, elegant as ever. Her family had been tied to his for years-business partners, allies. People whispered that she was his woman.
Alessandro had never corrected them.
To him, Janice was familiar and convenient. Nothing more.
The moment he closed the door, he crossed the room and pulled her to him, crashing his lips against hers. The sudden intensity startled her…she was usually the one chasing him — but she melted into the kiss instantly.
“Alessandro…” she breathed, fingers clutching his jacket.
His hands roamed without patience, gripping her hips, drawing her closer. She responded eagerly, soft sounds escaping her as she pressed into him.
He lifted her skirt, slid his hands into her panties, and felt the wetness down there. Using his fingers, he teased her just enough to make her gasp, making her want him more.
Janice smiled, emboldened, and gently pushed him back onto the bed. She worked at his belt, confident, familiar with his body. She undid his belt and slowly dipped her hands into his trousers.
A low sound escaped him.
“Elena-“
Janice froze.
She lifted her head slowly. “What did you say?”
Alessandro frowned, oblivious of what had just happened. ‘What?”
“You just said another woman’s name while making love to me,” she said quietly. “Who is Elena?”
He stiffened. “You heard wrong.”
She searched his face. “Alessandro…”
“There is no Elena,” he said flatly. “You imagined it.”
For a moment, doubt lingered in her eyes. Then she forced a smile. “I’m sorry, I guess I heard wrong.”
She leaned again, trying to continue from where they stopped, but something had shifted.
Alessandro’s mind refused to cooperate.
Elena’s face intruded on his thoughts again. Her eyes, her face, her strength.
When Janice moved closer, he pushed her abruptly.
“Stop.”
She stared at him, humiliated. “What’s wrong?”
“Leave,” he said, already standing.
She tried to touch him again, but he turned away and walked straight into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.
He turned on the shower and stood under the cold spray, water rushing over him as if it could wash her out of his head.
It didn’t.
In the room, Janice dressed in silence, anger burning beneath her composure. She left without another word.
Alessandro stayed where he was, fists braced against the tiled wall, breathing hard.
Elena had become more than a distraction.
And that terrified him.
Soon after, Alessandro left the hotel without looking back.
The early morning air was cold against his skin as he stepped outside, the city still half-asleep. He slid into his car and sat there for a moment, hands gripping the steering wheel, jaw clenched tight. He couldn’t understand why he had been feeling the way he was lately; he couldn’t understand why he could forget about Janice but couldn’t forget about Elena, and that irritated him more than anything else.
He started the engine and drove straight to the docks.
Alessandro arrived at the old shipping warehouse by the docks, just as the fog began to lift. The sea air was sharp, biting—familiar. Men lined the perimeter, silent and armed, their presence a warning rather than protection.
His father was already inside.
Don De Luca sat at the head of a long steel table, his silver-tipped staff resting against his knee. The overhead light carved harsh shadows into his face, accentuating the scar at his temple; age had slowed his body, not his mind.
“You’re late,” his father said without looking up.
Alessandro took a seat opposite him. “I came as soon as I could.”
His father’s eyes lifted cold and assessing. “We lost a shipment again.”
Alessandro’s jaw tightened. “I’ve been tracking the leak.”
“You missed the leak,” his father snapped. “And because of that, we are exposed.”
A folder slid across the table. Alessandro opened it, and in it were photos, documents, names, arms, cash, routes, and one unfamiliar insignia stamped across multiple pages.
His father leaned forward. “The Volokov syndicate is moving into our territory.”
Alessandro looked up sharply. “They wouldn’t dare.”
“They already have,” his father replied. “And they didn’t do it alone.”
Understanding dawned. “You think someone inside sold us out again.”
“I know they did.”
Silence stretched.
Don De Luca’s staff struck the concrete floor once. “You will meet their envoy tonight. Alone.”
Alessandro stiffened. “That’s reckless.”
His father’s gaze hardened. “That’s leadership.”
“If this is a trap…” Alessandro tried to say.
“Then you will survive it,” his father cut in, “or you won’t.”
Alessandro leaned back slowly, anger simmering beneath his calm. “And if I refuse?”
His father smiled thinly.” Then your brothers will go in your place.”
That did it.
Alessandro stood. “I’ll handle it.”
“You always do,” his father said coolly. “Just remember—this family survives because we are feared, not because we hesitate.”
As Alessandro stood, he turned to leave, but his father’s voice stopped him.
“And Alessandro, clean your messes. Every last one.”
The message was clear.
No loose ends.
No weaknesses.
Alessandro stepped outside into the morning air, his mind already racing with routes, exits, and contingencies.
And unbidden, another thought surfaced.
Elena.
His grip tightened at his sides.
He looked at her phone lying on the dashboard of his car and headed to the club to give it back to her.
- Writer
