The Mafia King’s Little Temptation

DIANA "Ma’am, your cab is outside and waiting." The rap on the frame of the open door made me jump. One of the hostel staff stood in the doorway of my small dorm room, gesturing toward the stairwell. I swallowed the sudden tightness in my throat and forced a polite smile. "Thank you. I'll be downstairs in just a moment." He nodded, disappearing back down the corridor. "I’m going to miss you so much," Fiona said, her voice cracking as she leaned against the desk. She looked at the bare walls, then back at me, her eyes bright with unshed tears. A chuckle escaped my lips, though my stomach was twisting into tight knots. "I'm going to miss you too, Fi. But I’m not vanishing off the face of the earth. We’ll be in constant contact. I promise." Fiona straightened up, stepping closer and gripping my forearms. Her gaze was intense, scanning my face for answers I didn't have. "Then drop your new home address. Right now. Write it down before you walk out that door." My shoulders dropped, a helpless bitter laugh slipping past my lips. "Fi, I honestly don't even know where I'm being taken." I looked down at my hands, my fingers tightening into fists. "It’s been ten years since I last saw the man who sent me here. Ten years since he paid for my education and set everything up. I’m just following the instructions I was given." Fiona fell quiet, her expression softening into a mixture of worry and understanding. She gave a slow nod, her grip loosening on my arms. "Fine. But send me the address the exact second you get settled. Don't make me hunt you down." "I will," I whispered. I stepped into her arms, pulling her into a fierce tight hug. When we parted, I grabbed the handle of my suitcase, I dragged it out into the hallway and down the stairs. The hostel worker was waiting at the bottom flight, his hand stretching out immediately. Without a word, he took the heavy burden from my grip, guiding it out through the front doors. Moments later, I was sliding into the back seat of the waiting car. The door clicked shut, sealing out the familiar sounds of the campus. I rolled the window down halfway, looking up at Fiona, who stood on the hostel steps waving a final goodbye. I waved back until the cab pulled away from the curb. Left alone in the quiet interior of the moving car. My chest thudded nervously. To distract myself, I reached into my bag and pulled out my phone, my fingers trembling slightly as I unlocked the screen. I tapped open the gallery, my breath catching as the image loaded. It was the only photograph I possessed of the man who had saved my life a decade ago—the man who had plucked me from ruin and quietly financed a better life for me from a distance. Until yesterday, I had genuinely believed I would never see him again. Then the message arrived, breaking a ten year silence with a cold command to return. I stared down at the screen, my eyes tracing the lines of his face. DANTE. Just reading his name in my own mind sent a violent shiver straight down my spine. In the photograph, he was a tall, strikingly handsome don. Dark and imposing. Intricate ink ran deep across his skin, the lines of tattoos crawling up the thick column of his neck and disappearing under the collar of his shirt toward his back. He looked like an apex predator, dangerous and untouchable. A sudden wave of heat flooded my chest. How is he going to react when he looks at me? The last time he saw me, I was just a frail frightened ten year old girl hiding in his shadow. Now, I was a mature woman. The thought made my pulse race with a terrifying nervousness. I didn't even know what he looked like anymore. In this old photograph, he was twenty six years old, a man in his prime. According to the brutal math of the passing years, he would be thirty six now. My grip tightened on the phone. I had kept this digital picture so carefully over the years, hiding it like a shameful secret. And in the dark lonely nights of my dorm room, my mind had wandered to places it shouldn't have. I had built entire worlds around that image, fueling vivid dirty imaginations of a man I barely knew, imagining the touch of hands that were stained with blood. A fierce burning flush crawled up my neck at the sudden realization of my own thoughts. Panicking, I shoved the phone violently back into my bag, zipping it shut as if I could lock the shame away inside it. "You alright back there, miss?" The driver’s voice cracked through the silence, his eyes meeting mine in the rearview mirror. I pulled my hands into my lap to stop the trembling. "I'm fine," I said, my voice coming out slightly higher than usual. "Just a bit overwhelmed." The man gave a small professional nod, his gaze returning to the road ahead. "We’ll be arriving at the airport very soon. Mr. Dante’s private jet is already on the tarmac awaiting your arrival." My heart did a violent flip. His private jet.The sheer scale of his power hit me all over again, a reminder that I was entering a world that operated on an entirely different set of rules. I couldn't speak, so I simply nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat as I whispered a faint, "Thank you." The city streets soon gave way to the high, fences of the airport area. When the vehicle came to a stop, the door was immediately opened from the outside. I stepped out onto the tarmac, the wind whipping my hair across my face. Standing in a neat, imposing line were several men dressed in flawless solid black suits. Their expressions were completely blank, their eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses. One of them stepped forward, his posture rigid. "Miss Diana," he said, his voice dropping into a low, respectful tone. "We are here to collect you. We’re from Mr. Dante." I nodded, the air leaving my lungs in a quiet rush. "Thank you," I managed to say, stepping into the space they cleared for me. I followed them without question as they escorted me up the metal stairs and directly into the belly of the private jet. Stepping inside was like crossing the threshold into another dimension. The interior was a breathtaking, oppressive display of wealth. It was beautiful, Every detail screamed luxury, dominance and control. A woman in a dark uniform stepped forward from the galley, her hands folded neatly in front of her. "Welcome aboard, Miss Diana. If you need anything at all during the flight, please let me know immediately." I moved toward one of the oversized leather seats, my limbs feeling uncooperative. "I'm fine at the moment, thank you," I murmured, sinking into the plush material. The woman gave a polite bow and retreated, leaving me alone. The silence inside the plane felt even more suffocating than the car. Desperate for any kind of distraction to keep my mind from drifting back to the old photograph and the terrifying reality of where I was going, I reached for a glossy lifestyle magazine sitting in the sleek leather pouch directly in front of me. I flipped it open blindly, staring at the pages, but the text blurred into meaningless shapes. A soft chime echoed through the cabin, followed by the smooth voice of the flight attendant over the speaker. "Miss Diana, the plane will take off in two minutes. Please buckle up your seatbelt."