Forbidden Temptations

Aideen

I've taken over the Empire.

And I've been digging into the shooters who were the reason for my parents' death. So far, I've got almost nothing and it frustrates me. I now feel like a walking volcano, ready to erupt any second and cause damage.

However, it wasn't just the lack of information about my parents' death, but also the stress of leading an Empire alone. With absolutely no idea how. I would've crashed and lost my sanity the first day if it weren't for Els.

Els was my cousin and the spoiled mafia princess. Even though she was spoiled, she loved me to bits and would drop everything if I was in trouble and vice versa.

Now, I don't know what I would do without her. She became my anchor.

Now, I am at a mafia event. All dressed up like a doll as the mafia expects the mafia ladies to be.

I am wearing an off - shoulder, full-length black dress which has a daring split on my right thigh. My black hair was perfectly styled and was down. Instead of the cake face they expect, I wore minimal makeup, not because I was a pick-me girl or something, but because my skin was sensitive to beauty products and had certain limits.

I wasn't keen on setting them off and suffering now of all times. I took a glass of champagne from the passing waiter and observed the expansive room.

And as always, my eyes stopped on them.

My eyes drank the way they looked. How could they look so alluring?

Enzo Luciano, The cold and the King of the devils. With his black hair and ocean blue eyes, and the way he stood, the confident yet cocky way. It was enough to make any woman drool and drop to their knees.

Nero Luciano. The smiling assassin. The one that appears like he's different from his brothers but the exact f*****g same. Charming yet condescending. With his black hair and amber eyes, he could make anyone fall in love with him with just a glance.

The youngest brother. For some reason, no one knows his name. The creepy one. With his dark blonde hair and striking forest-green eyes that always seemed hollow. They call him Daiblo.

Is this how devils look? Like an angel on the exterior, but the true intentions are buried deep down, which only resurfaces when alone and when no one expects it?

I would f*****g love to know what they do in private sessions....

What the f**k are you thinking, deen!? You're supposed to hate them! I reminded myself.

Just then, Diablo locked his eyes with me and I swear he's doing something to me, because I couldn't look away. It's as if he had me in a trance. I just narrowed my eyes and tried to turn when I caught the twitch of his lips. He looked away and I turned before I was captured by his captivating eyes again.

What the f**k was that just now?

In my peripheral vision, I saw him saying something to his brothers, and they turned to look at me. I could feel their gazes boring on the back of my neck.

An older man, a mafia member, got my attention as he talked about the relations between the mafia. I was not in the mood for mafia history classes, but he seemed to know his stuff and decided that I could ask him a couple of questions.

I smiled sweetly, and it seems to do the trick as he speaks a little firmer now. I nodded and pretended that I was listening intently while I was stacking up questions in my mind that I wanted to ask.

When he laughed, I took my chance and interrupted him. "Could you do me a favor?" I asked softly and he nodded with a smile that I would've found attractive if I was his age.

"Is there a reason the last son of Luciano is unknown?" I asked, genuinely curious.

The elder man looked uneasy and looked around before setting his gaze on me.

"Well, he had a rough time overcoming his mother's death. And his mom always uses his full name when addressing him so..." He stopped and I nodded, understanding what he meant.

He didn't want anyone calling him by his name as it would trigger his memories of his mother. It made me think about my own situation. I just lost my parents and it left a wound, one that is still fresh and stinging.

The elder set a somewhat sympathetic gaze on me. "How are you holding up, dear?" He asked with a warming smile.

I hated it if someone pitied me, even for a good cause. It makes me feel weak and incompetent. But he did answer my question and I should at least be nice.

I just nodded with a small fake smile. "It has been hard, but I am moving on."

He nodded and smiled that anyone would consider it genuine but it's the mafia and no one's actually genuine. "If you have any other questions-" he was cut off by a deep, velvety voice.

"Oh? Questions about what, If I may ask?" I turned to see the owner of the voice and stilled completely when I came face to face with him.

Enzo Luciano.

He gave me a cruel smirk. "I thought you knew the rules before you signed the death contract, little mouse?"

I suppressed a shiver that was threatening to get out at his deep voice and the name. Little mouse.

I composed myself and painted a calm expression that hopefully didn't betray the turmoil I was feeling under his piercing gaze.

"Of course I did, Mr. Luciano." I said in a cold tone.

His smirk widened and there was a glint in his eyes that I didn't like one bit. "Doesn't look it, considering you were taking history lessons from that old f**k"

I narrowed my eyes as rage took over me. "That's none of your business."

He chuckled in amusement. Why the hell was he amused? There is nothing amusing about the rage threatening to come out and cover this whole lavish f*****g room with crimson liquid with a copper taste.

"I am sorry. Is there anything I said that you find funny, Mr Luciano?" My voice was harsher than I meant to be.

He shook his head with a mocking smile and stepped closer until he was towering me. My gaze didn't waver. He tilted his head with a devilish smile and tipped my chin up to look at the giant of a man.

"I was just wondering if you were ready for our game, little mouse."