The Don's Legal Eagle's Baby: An Enemies to Lovers Mafia Romance

3. Emilio

Iperched myself on a high stool at the bar, the lively ambiance of the club buzzing around me. The music pounded through the air, reverberating in my bones. The red lights and the energetic crowd created an electrifying atmosphere.

Ordering a non-alcoholic drink to maintain my wits, I moved locations to observe from a more secluded spot, opting for an unnoticeable corner that afforded me a good vantage point of the club. As I settled into a seat, I scanned the room.

Enzo had told me that my pursuers had arrived here after giving up the chase. I had waited until the night before coming here. After all, it would have been stupid to show up right after they had chased – and lost - me.

The plan was simple. I did not come to engage them here; rather, I intended to observe and gather them. But as time ticked away and my patience wore thin, I contemplated giving up. It seemed the Mancini crew were a no-show, and frustration gnawed at me. Should I cut my losses and leave?

Then, out of the blue, I spotted one of them, a known face from previous encounters. My car”s scans and some strategic surveillance had familiarized me with quite a few Mancini members. He was scouring the club with intent eyes. Who was he looking for? Another member?

The bulky man walked through a door that was located on the side of the club. I didn’t know where it led. It was tempting to follow, but barging in would be the end of my undercover game. So, I stayed put. He wasn’t going to stay there.

My gaze wandered among the crowd, hoping to spot any signs of the Mancini family themselves. However, unexpectedly, my attention was snared by a captivating figure at the bar. Brown hair flowed elegantly over nude shoulders, pointing to a trim waist hugged by a cobalt blue dress.. She gazed at me.

When our eyes met, it felt as if time had frozen. The intensity of that brief gaze, which made time seem to stretch, awakened curiosity and interest in me. When her eyes finally moved away, a part of me wished they would return. I could see that I wasn”t the only one who was interested.

I turned my attention back to the door Mancini’s man had disappeared through. Rising from my seat, I made my way to the bar, strategically placing myself beside her. At this angle, I could still keep an eye on the door while presenting an opportunity to engage her in conversation.

Sitting next to her, her aloofness didn”t deter me. If anything, it piqued my interest further. She exuded self-assurance.

”It”s quite a lively place, isn”t it?” I remarked, attempting to initiate a conversation.

”Yes, it is.” A brief response. She wasn”t one for small talk, but her reluctance only fueled my desire to unravel her mystery.

I continued, undeterred by her cool reception. ”I”m Emilio. What about you?”

”Griselda,” she replied. Her eyes briefly met mine before drifting away.

Griselda—simple and to the point. A beautiful name for a beautiful woman. It suited her. I leaned back, giving her space.

”So, Griselda,” I started, trying to keep the conversation light, ”do you come here often?”

She looked up from her drink, and this time, her expression softened a bit.

”Not really,” she said, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. ”Just needed a break from the usual routine.”

”Ah, I can relate to that,” I replied, relieved that she was opening up a bit. I wondered what had made her act so coldly before. ”Work can be quite demanding sometimes.”

Griselda nodded, her gaze thoughtful. ”You”re right. How about you? What keeps you occupied?”

”Business ventures, mostly,” I replied, opting for a more general response. ”I”m passionate about what I do.”

As the night progressed and various topics came under discussion, conversation flowed easily between us. When last had either of us enjoyed a real vacation? , Which were our dream destinations if time and money were of no concern?

We even shared our love for Italian cuisine, staying away from anything too personal. One topic led naturally into another, and Griselda”s guarded demeanor began to fade away. It felt as if I was watching the gradual unfurling of a beautiful mystery.

”So, Griselda,” I started, circling back to our professional lives, ”what keeps you busy during the day?”

”I”m a lawyer,” she replied, a glint of passion lighting up her hazel eyes.

”Ah, a guardian of justice,” I quipped, the irony not lost on me. There was a glaring yet unspoken truth—her path was on the side of justice, while mine - well - it had its complexities.

Griselda revealed her passion for law and her dedication to her work. Her core belief that she could impact the lives of her clients for the better caused her hazel eyes to glow with a certain light.

The faint dimples that appeared when she smiled and the way her nose crinkled slightly were all details that drew me in.”Your turn,” she prompted, genuinely interested.

”I”m the CEO of Royalty Rentals,” I admitted, silently bracing for her reaction. The same one every other woman who discovered my status gave me. A broader, faker smile and eyes were suddenly lighting up with dollar signs.

Instead, a burst of laughter escaped her, and it was as if the atmosphere of the club echoed the joyful sound. I could sense a tinge of disbelief in her laughter, almost like she couldn”t fathom me holding such a position. It pricked my pride, but the genuine joy in her laughter was endearing.

”Royalty Rentals? Seriously?” she giggled, shaking her head incredulously.

”Absolutely,” I confirmed, a smirk playing on my lips. Her skepticism was strangely charming, and I found myself captivated once more.

”Wow, well, you must have quite a choice of cars then,” she remarked, still chuckling.

Leaning casually against the counter, facing her directly, I replied, ”Oh, you have no idea.”

There was a playful edge to our conversation, yet we both exercised caution. I didn’t dwell much on her not believing me. It didn’t matter.

“What’s your color?” she asked me.

”Favorite color? Well, that”s an unexpected turn,” I remarked, surprised and intrigued by her sudden change of topic. ”But I”d say midnight blue. It”s mysterious and elegant. How about you, Griselda?”

Her smile broadened, mischief dancing in her eyes. ”Emerald green, for sure. It”s vibrant and full of life. They say it”s the color of ambition, you know.”

I leaned in a bit closer as our playfulness gained momentum. ”Ambition, huh? I can see that in your eyes. A woman who knows what she wants.”

Griselda”s laughter filled the air, a delightful sound that made my heart race. ”You”ve got a way with words, Emilio. But don”t think you can distract me that easily.”

”Distraction is an art, Griselda,” I murmured, our faces mere inches apart. ”And I”m an artist.”

She chuckled softly, her breath mingling with mine. ”An artist, huh? Show me what else you can create.”

Our lips hovered impossibly close, a tantalizing promise of something electric, when suddenly, my peripheral vision caught a flicker of movement. It was as if the universe had conspired to yank me away from this moment.

I pulled back, my eyes darting to the side. There, emerging from the door through which he had left earlier, stood. Panic surged within me because, for a moment, I had almost forgotten why I was here.

Griselda, confusion etched across her features, leaned back, her eyes scanning mine for answers. ”Is something wrong? Did I misread the vibe?”

I wanted to tell her it wasn”t her, that it was anything but her, but words escaped me at what happened next.

Mancini’s thug looked around the club and ended up catching sight of me by sheer accident. Our eyes locked, and in that instant, recognition and dread flashed across both our faces. Time seemed to slow as we stared at each other, and I knew that I couldn”t let this chance slip away.

Without a second thought, the guy bolted, his burly frame vanishing into the chaotic depths of the club.

My instincts kicked in, and I lunged after him, my apologies to Griselda lost in the blaring music and the cacophony of voices.

My world narrowed down to a singular objective, which was to capture Mancini’s mafioso and gather whatever information I could.

As I maneuvered through the pulsing crowd, dodging dancers and revelers, I couldn”t help but wonder how this abrupt departure would appear to Griselda. From almost kissing her to running away like a lunatic, it didn’t paint a complementary picture. Not at all.

Adrenaline coursed through my veins, my senses hyper-aware as I tried to close the distance between me and my elusive target.

The Mancini family”s relentless pursuit of me had turned into a deadly game of cat and mouse, and this club was the latest battleground. The thug made a hurried exit through an alternative door, leaving me with a whirlwind of thoughts.

What were his intentions? Was this an attempt to lure me into a trap?

Racing thoughts and rising panic vied for control, urging me towards rash decisions. I raced through the labyrinthine alleys outside the club, shadows cloaking my movements. My breath was ragged, and my mind raced. My thoughts churned, contemplating the tangled web of possibilities.

As I chased after the mafioso, my mind raced with thoughts of the beautiful woman I had left behind in the club. Griselda had captivated me in a way I hadn”t expected, and the memory of her lingered.

I hoped I would see her again.