Her Forbidden Night With The Mafia Boss

Thalia's Pov I could feel eyes trailing over me. My dark dress clung to my curves, hugging my frame in all the right places and the cut at the back revealed my well toned body, the slit leaving little to imagination. The cold metal pressed against my thighs reminded me of the gun tucked beneath the fabric, which felt oddly comforting. My gaze flitted across the room, assessing the exits, mapping the layout out of habit. Pulling out my phone, I dialed his contact. “Yeah?” His voice was low and rough, barely audible over the music blasting from the speakers. “Cole,” I said, keeping my tone steady. “Are you sure he’s here? Because three hours in, and I haven’t seen a damn thing.” A sigh crackled through the line. “Trust me, Thalia Winter, he’s there. Just be patient.” “Patience isn’t my strong suit,” I shot back. “Send me a picture. I can’t wait around forever.” “Alright, alright,” he muttered, clearly annoyed but knowing better than to push back. “Give me ten more minutes." “Mind if I sit?” A voice, low and smooth, warm like aged whiskey with a hint of bite. I looked up, and I had no doubts he is the most handsome man I have ever seen. Deep hazel eyes stared at me, his 6'9" frame towered over me. I let my eyes trail down, taking in the ink peeking through his black silk shirt. Three rings adored his tattooed knuckles, his fingers wrapped around a glass that had very little liquid in it. His shoulder length hair was pulled back into a neat bun, it had that effortless look people chase but rarely get right. I couldn’t ignore the way his jawline seemed strong, enough to make me wonder if it would feel as strong as it looked. Confidence clung to him like a second skin, making his presence both intrusive and undeniably magnetic. “Be my guest,” I replied, letting my lips curve into the slightest smile, just enough to suggest that sitting was both a privilege and a test. He slid into the seat, close enough that his breath grazed my cheeks. “Lonely?” He asked I arched a brow, a flicker of a challenge in my eyes. “Hardly. But I’m open to a little distraction.” A grin tugged at his mouth, like he was trying it on just for me. “Is that what I am? A distraction?” “Depends,” I said, letting my gaze flick down and back up slowly, assessing him. “Think you are up for it?” “More than up for it.” He leaned back, watching me with eyes that didn’t waver. “Question is, are you?” I let the silence stretch, letting him wonder. “I’m hard to impress.” “Oh, I’m used to it.” His smirk turned wicked, his brown eyes catching the club’s dim light. “What’s a challenge without a little resistance?” For the next while, we engaged in little talks, he would lean closer to tell me some story, the half-smile on his lips hinting that every detail was a lie, and I would laugh, cool and amused, though I never believed a word that came from his tempting lips. Deliberately, his hand brushed against mine, lingering just long enough to notice. His fingers were rough and strong, the kind I liked. An unspoken challenge in the way he didn’t immediately move away. “What brings you here?” he asked, voice dipping as he traced the rim of his glass. I shrugged. “Looking for something interesting. Maybe, someone interesting.” His gaze flickered with something I couldn’t quite place. “I would say you found him.” There was a silence between us, and I didn't miss the invitation behind his words. Maybe tonight I should allow myself one reckless decision. We slipped out of the club separately, each moving through the crowd with ease. Outside, I let him take the lead, his long strides leading the way. He glance over his shoulder, a silent cue that I followed without hesitation. He drove fast, the sleek roar of his car filling the night. I followed close behind, my car keeping up with the pace effortlessly. My fingers brushed against the gun strapped to my thigh, a brief moment of assurance, before slipping it into my clutch. The destination was a mansion, the grand building glowed under the moonlight. He stepped out first, waiting just long enough for me to catch up before taking my hand. I held onto my clutch with my free hand as we ascended the marble staircase. The door clicked shut behind us, sealing me in with this stranger, and in the moments that followed, no words were spoken. **** The buzz of my phone notification cut through the quiet of dawn, pulling me from sleep and sending a rush of adrenaline through my veins. Quickly reminded of my mission as I glanced at the screen. No messages had come through yet. Mission or not, it was time to go. I slipped out of bed, scooped my dress off the floor, and slipped it on, smoothing the fabric over my body. Pulling a few bills from my purse, I left them beside his phone on the table. As I reached the door, I cast one last look at him, taking in the way the early light brushed against his sleeping form. “Thanks for the distraction,” I whispered, slipping out without a sound. **** I scanned my card, pressed my finger to the pad, and waited for the silent clearance. Lights buzzed as I walked. Grunts, gunfire, fists on bags echoed through the halls. I knocked and pushed the door open. Raze sat behind a metal desk, fingers steepled, his gaze fixed on me the moment I walked in. A jagged scar cut down his cheek, a constant reminder of who was in charge, a man who had clawed his way up in blood. “Finally decided to show up?” His voice was a growl, simmering with barely contained anger. “I didn’t have the pictures." I replied, keeping my tone even. He slid a file across the desk, his gaze unwavering. “It came in late." I opened the file, the color draining from my face as I recognized the man staring back at me. “You are telling me... he’s the target?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. “Yes,” he said, an edge to his words. “Lorenzo, one of the baddest in the game. And while you were... otherwise occupied, he slipped out of our radar. Again.” I swallowed, my mind spinning, replaying every moment of last night with fresh eyes. I had held him, whispered things, gotten too close, all while oblivious to the fact that he was the one I had been sent to kill.