Second Chance With Mafia My Lover

Nadia's POV If someone had told me that my entire life would change because of a spilled glass of champagne, I would have laughed in their face. Yet there I was, standing in the middle of the most expensive ballroom I had ever seen, trying not to panic. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling like stars trapped in glass. The soft glow of golden lights reflected off polished marble floors. Men in tailored suits and women in designer gowns moved around the room with effortless elegance. And then there was me. A girl who had spent two hours deciding whether her only black dress was fancy enough for the occasion. I adjusted the strap of my purse and glanced around nervously. My best friend, Mia, had practically dragged me to the charity gala after winning two tickets through her company. "You need to get out more," she had insisted. "I get out." "No, Nadia. Going from your apartment to work doesn't count." Now she was somewhere across the room talking to people while I stood alone near the refreshment table wondering if it would be socially acceptable to leave after ten minutes. Probably not. I reached for a glass of champagne. The music shifted as a string quartet began playing a softer melody. The room buzzed with conversation. I took a small sip and exhaled slowly. Maybe tonight wouldn't be so bad. Then I turned around. And walked directly into someone. The collision happened so fast that I barely had time to react. My champagne flew from the glass. Straight onto a man's white dress shirt. The entire room seemed to freeze. My stomach dropped. "Oh my God." The words escaped before I could stop them. I stared at the wet stain spreading across his shirt. A very expensive shirt. Attached to a very attractive man. A very attractive man who was now looking down at himself. I wanted the floor to open up and swallow me whole. "I'm so sorry," I blurted. No response. My heart stopped. He was angry. Of course he was angry. I'd ruined his shirt. I scrambled for napkins. "I'm really sorry. I didn't see where I was going. I can pay for the cleaning. Or replace it. Although I probably can't actually afford to replace it, but I can try—" A laugh interrupted me. I blinked. The man was laughing. Not a polite laugh. Not an annoyed laugh. A genuine laugh. The kind that lit up his entire face. My words died instantly. His dark eyes met mine. "Are you always this honest?" I stared. "What?" His smile widened. "You admitted you can't afford the shirt." Heat rushed to my cheeks. "Well, it's true." Another laugh escaped him. Great. Now he was definitely making fun of me. "I wasn't expecting that answer." I folded my arms. "Most people would have lied?" "Most people would have." "Well, I'm not most people." Something flickered in his expression. Interest. Real interest. For some reason that made me even more nervous. He took a napkin from my hand and glanced down at the stain. "I think I'll survive." Relief washed over me. "You're not angry?" "Should I be?" "I ruined your shirt." "You looked more upset about it than I am." I couldn't argue with that. A smile tugged at the corner of my mouth. "Fair point." For a moment neither of us spoke. The strange thing was that the silence wasn't uncomfortable. It felt natural. Easy. As though we'd known each other longer than thirty seconds. His gaze remained fixed on me. Confident. Steady. Intense. I suddenly became very aware of the fact that he was ridiculously handsome. Dark hair. Strong jawline. Perfectly tailored suit. The kind of face that belonged on magazine covers. The kind of face that probably had women falling over themselves every day. Yet he was standing here talking to me. A complete stranger who had just attacked him with champagne. "I'm Renzo." The sound of his voice pulled me back. "Nadia." His smile softened. "Nadia." The way he said my name sent an unexpected flutter through my chest. I immediately ignored it. Absolutely not. I was not going to develop a crush on a stranger at a charity gala. That would be ridiculous. "So," Renzo said, "do you always make dramatic entrances?" I laughed. "I've been here for almost an hour." "Then dramatic introductions." "That wasn't intentional." "Still memorable." I shook my head. "I can't believe this happened." "I can." "What does that mean?" He shrugged. "You don't seem like someone who enjoys standing quietly in a corner." I stared at him. "That's exactly what I was doing." His eyebrows lifted. "Really?" "Yes." He glanced toward the refreshment table. Then back at me. "Interesting." "What?" "You don't look like someone who hides." The comment caught me off guard. Maybe because it wasn't true. Or maybe because a small part of me wished it wasn't. Before I could answer, a voice called Renzo's name from across the room. Several men approached. All dressed in expensive suits. All carrying themselves with the same confidence. One of them stopped when he saw me. Then looked between Renzo and me with obvious curiosity. A knowing grin spread across his face. Renzo shot him a warning look. The man immediately looked away. That was odd. Very odd. "Friends?" I asked. Renzo sighed. "Unfortunately." I laughed again. The sound surprised me. I couldn't remember the last time talking to someone had felt this effortless. One of the men called his name again. Renzo glanced toward them before returning his attention to me. For some reason I felt strangely disappointed. The conversation was ending. I wasn't sure why that bothered me. We had literally just met. Yet I already found myself wanting a few more minutes. A few more questions. A few more smiles. Renzo seemed reluctant to leave as well. The realization made my pulse quicken. "Looks like they're k********g you," I said. "Looks like it." His gaze lingered on mine. Neither of us moved. Neither of us looked away. Something shifted between us. Something quiet. Something dangerous. The kind of moment that changes everything before either person realizes it. A strange warmth spread through my chest. I should have stepped back. I should have thanked him for being nice about the champagne and moved on with my evening. Instead, I stayed exactly where I was. And so did he. Finally, Renzo reached into his jacket pocket. And bought out his phone. Here your number. Before thinking twice I took it and dialled my number. Here i said, he took his phone. Saved. Nadia. Then, He pulled out a small card. Then handed it to me. I looked down. His name was printed across the front. Simple. Elegant. Expensive. Just like everything else about him. I looked back up. "What am I supposed to do with this?" His smile returned. "Call me." My heart skipped. I hated that it skipped. I hated it even more that he seemed to notice. "And if I don't?" His eyes sparkled with amusement. "Then I'll spend the next month wondering about the girl who assaulted me with champagne." I laughed despite myself. "You make it sound like a crime." "It felt like one." "You're impossible." "So I've been told." The music swelled around us. The ballroom seemed brighter somehow. Warmer. For the first time all evening, I was genuinely glad I had come. Because if I hadn't… I never would have met him. Never would have seen the way his eyes softened when he smiled. Never would have felt this strange connection pulling me toward a man I barely knew. A man who felt oddly familiar despite being a complete stranger. Renzo took a step backward. "I should go." "Probably." "Will you call?" I hesitated. Not because I didn't want to. Because I wanted to far more than I should. His smile deepened. As though he already knew the answer. Maybe he did. "Goodnight, Nadia." "Goodnight, Renzo." For a second he simply looked at me. Then he turned and walked away. I watched him disappear into the crowd. Only when he was gone did I realize I was still holding his card. Still staring after him. Still smiling. A feeling settled deep in my chest. Hope. Excitement. Curiosity. The sense that something important had just happened. I didn't know it yet. I couldn't possibly know it. But that night would become the dividing line of my life. Everything before Renzo Moretti. And everything after. I slipped the card into my purse. Across the room, Renzo glanced back one final time. Our eyes met. Neither of us looked away. And for the first time in a very long time, I couldn't stop smiling. Maybe Mia had been right. Maybe coming tonight hadn't been a mistake after all. Maybe some things happened for a reason. I watched as Renzo disappeared into the crowd, surrounded by men in expensive suits. One of them leaned toward him and said something. Renzo laughed. Then all of them looked in my direction. Heat immediately rushed to my cheeks. I looked away. When I glanced back a moment later, Renzo was still watching me. The corner of his mouth lifted in a smile. My heart did something ridiculous. Then Mia appeared beside me. "Okay," she said, practically vibrating with excitement. "Who was that?" I groaned. "Nobody." "Nobody?" "He just spilled champagne on himself." Mia stared at me. "Nadia." "Fine. I spilled champagne on him." Her eyes widened. "The hot guy?" "Can we not call him that?" "You got his number, didn't you?" I hesitated. That was all the answer she needed. A squeal escaped her. I immediately regretted telling her anything. Before she could interrogate me further, my phone buzzed in my purse. I frowned. No one should have been texting me. Pulling it out, I looked down at the screen. My breath caught. Unknown Number A single message. Just six words. Call me before someone else does. My heart skipped. Slowly, I looked across the ballroom. Renzo stood near the exit. Phone in hand. Watching me. The smile on his face widened when he realized I'd read the message. And somehow, I knew one thing with absolute certainty. I was definitely going to call him.