10. Pietro
PIETRO
YOU AGAIN?
I exhale, dragging a hand through my hair as I lean against the cool leather seat of the Hummer.
The club looms ahead, a beacon in the city’s darkness.
It’s into the belly of the beast for me.
The city is hungry, and it pulsates in the colored spotlights, the promise of indulgence, and the crimson blood spilled between enemies that line the streets.
Tonight is my first official night at the club. I anticipate chaos as everyone finds their footing. There will be thugs and drugs, but it’s business as usual.
In time, it will become my new routine. Simple. Even predictable.
I should be focused on work, but I can’t forget her .
I remember the way her body moved beneath me and her soft moans that filled the room. I loved the fact that she screamed as she came. I’d be lying if I said her intense orgasms didn’t stroke my ego.
I loved how her nails dragged down my back like she was trying to carve herself into my skin. It was sublime.
It was one night.
That’s all it was supposed to be. She left before I could even see her in the morning light. I thought we could have breakfast together. I can’t believe she left me, and I decided it’s probably for the best.
I’m used to women hanging around, hoping our fling will lead to something more, but they aren’t the type of women I want to be with.
Those women are insecure and willing to attach themselves to the first available man.
They are lonely women who will go home with anyone so they don’t have to go home alone.
Amara had a subtle confidence about her. When she looked at me, I had an epiphany. She’s different than the others. She’s someone who captivated me from the second our eyes met.
She has no idea who I am. She doesn’t belong in my world.
Or maybe I don’t belong in hers. But either way, it’s over, and the world will continue to revolve around the sun unscathed.
And that’s why I tell myself it’s a good thing she left.
Amara, it’s a pretty name for a gorgeous woman.
I’ll never see her again. One day, I’ll look back and see it for what it was—a fleeting moment. If we had stayed together, the heat would consume us, and we’d burn out like a falling star.
Why be together when it can only end with one of us dead? I live and breathe in a dangerous world—and then there’s the family curse. It's safer this way for both of us.
It’s how it has to be.
Because she has the power to make me forget my past.
She made me feel alive. I loved her quiet confidence—the way our eyes locked across the dance floor, unspoken passion burning between us. The way she slid down my body, slow and deliberate, her mouth hovering just above my cock, full of promise and wicked intent.
I should have gotten her number, but it’s not in the cards. I don’t have time for a relationship, and passion like ours would destroy a lesser man.
I sit in my vehicle, straightening the cuffs of my black dress shirt before I step out and slide my arms into my black jacket.
“Thank you, Joseph.”
“No problem, Mr. Borrelli,” he says, nodding respectfully.
I stride toward the club entrance and let myself in through the side door.
The bass pounds like a second heartbeat—deep, relentless, vibrating through the floor and crawling up my spine.
It rattles glasses, pulses in my chest, and drowns out everything but the rhythm.
The air is thick with sweat, and bodies move in time, each beat a command no one dares disobey.
I know it will remain like this throughout the night.
I walk past the main floor of the club. Singles, couples, and cheaters are having a great time.
I can’t miss the nefarious-looking men with gold and silver chains around their necks.
But as long as the gangs don’t cause problems, there’s nothing I can do about it.
The gangs will find another hub as soon as our men make their presence known.
My club. My rules.
The air is thick with the scents of perfume, alcohol, and sexual chemistry.
The dance floor is already packed, but all I see is her.
From up here, I get a bird’s-eye view of what we must’ve looked like last night—bodies locked in a slow, indulgent grind.
I can still smell her—vanilla and raspberries—etched into my skin like something that belongs to me.
She’s not here, but every part of me still reaches for her.
Wanting, needing, and wishing for one more taste.
I walk toward the corridor that leads to the office, telling myself to shake it off. It’s time to get to work.
And that’s when I see her .
No. No fucking way.
I blink, thinking she’s an illusion based on my desire to see her again.
My steps falter, but I recover quickly.
She’s standing at the bar, flipping through the schedule on her tablet like she owns the damn place.
My cock springs to life. I’d love to bend her over the bar and take her.
I observe the situation because I’m supposed to be a professional. But when I notice the man at the bar who continues to eyefuck her—I’m livid.
I’m ready to spring into action to protect what’s mine. But I’m in charge—and killing patrons is bad for business. So, I grit my teeth and talk myself down, one breath at a time .
She must sense something is amiss—she turns, and her blue eyes lock onto mine. For the first time in years, I’m speechless.
The music drones on, and people fade away as time stands still. I never understood what the phrase ‘time standing still’ meant before, but now I’ve experienced it firsthand.
Her lips parted just slightly—a flicker of surprise breaking through before she reins it in. The smile fades. Her eyes sweep over me, and she forgets to pretend for a moment. I see it—the pull, the want.
It’s how her fingers tighten around the tablet, and she shifts her weight like she’s contemplating an escape. She’s trying to stay distant… but her body longs for me. Then it’s gone—vanishing as quickly as it came. She masks the desire behind a practiced, professional facade.
Smart girl. She knows I’m dangerous.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she says flatly.
And there it is—the quick and biting greeting that screams defiance. I’m mesmerized by everything that makes her, her.
I arch a brow. “Didn’t take you for the type to believe in second chances.”
She exhales sharply, shaking her head. “I—no. No, this is not happening.” Her delicate hand is raised, and her pointer finger is bobbing back and forth, objecting to my statement.
I smirk because watching her squirm is far too satisfying. “And yet, here we are.”
She squares her shoulders like she’s preparing for battle. “What the hell are you doing here?”
Hell if I know .
But here we are, and I don’t believe in coincidences.
It’s a rule that has kept me alive for years.
Fate has brought us together, and, well, fate’s a fucking bitch.
What are the odds that she’d be the one my sister-in-law hired to work here? No one would meet their one-night stand inside twenty-four hours because this city is too big.
And yet, here we are .
I take a slow step closer, letting the moment between us stretch. “I own the place.”
Her nostrils flare. “You own the—” She cuts herself off, rubbing a hand over her face. “Great. Just great.”
Her red-stained lips display a pout that makes my cock flare. My suit pants are stretched to capacity.
“You sound thrilled,” I smirk.
“Oh, ecstatic,” she deadpans. “This is just so convenient for you .” I’m enjoying her discomfort. She must like me because if she didn’t give a damn, she wouldn’t be standing here arguing with me.
There’s no way around the fact that we’re stuck with each other.
That leads me to the logical concern that lurks in my family tree—the family curse.
The Borrelli Curse.
I never cared enough to think a woman I was with was at risk of falling for it, but now I’m concerned.
I know it’s real because I was eight years old the first time I saw what that curse could do.
My mother’s scream still rings in my ears, sharp and jagged, as she tumbled down the staircase of our family home.
I remember the sound of her bones hitting the marble basement floor.
And I remember the stillness in the wake of violence.
I never heard her voice again. I never felt her warm hugs again. Our father took her away and covered it up.
Love doesn’t survive in my bloodline. It rots. It poisons. It destroys and leads to the death of the women we love.
And that’s what my family would be talking about if my woman were to die.
My world is dark, and maintaining relationships is challenging.
And yet, she’s still standing before me, vehemently denying the burning attraction between us. She’s sparring over semantics, and it’s thrilling.
It’s also a turn-on.
I lean against the bar, crossing my arms. “I’d say so. You saved me the trouble of tracking you down.”
Her jaw tightens. “ Tracking me down? Please. We had one night. One perfect night, but that’s all it was. And now, we’re coworkers. So, let’s just—” She waves a hand between us. “Let’s forget it happened.”
I tilt my head, baiting her. “You forgot already?”
Her lips press into a thin line. “I meant professionally . ”
“Of course,” I murmur.
She doesn’t look convinced.
I watch her for a beat and see how she’s trying so hard to act unaffected, but I know better. I remember the way she melted beneath me. I remember how she looked at me like I was the only thing keeping her anchored to this world. I remember her coming undone under me.
And now, I want her again. One taste is not enough.
I want more.
I know she remembers how she lost her breath as I penetrated her with my large cock.
I flash her my devilish grin, the one that makes every woman kneel.
But she’s ignoring me.
“Since we’re being professional,” she says, adjusting her stance, “I assume you’ll respect my position here.”
I arch a brow. “Your position?”
She lifts her chin. “Assistant manager.”
I blink. “You’re kidding.”
She crosses her arms. “Do I look like I’m kidding?”
I glance at the tablet in her hands, and I quickly recognize the employee schedules and neatly organized columns… and fuck, she’s color-coded them!
Mm. She’s serious.
I chuckle, shaking my head. “Well, well. Looks like I’ll be seeing a lot more of you.”
She groans, rubbing her temples. “Not if I can help it. This is a nightmare.”
“For you, maybe,” I grin mischievously.
“For both of us,” she replies with an attitude.
If I were candy, I would have melted like a Hershey’s kiss under her intense glare .
She’s the perfect distraction to my long nights. She’s the woman I want under me, on top of me, and, most importantly, ridding my cock.
“We’ll see,” I stoically reply.
She exhales sharply. “Alright, listen. I don’t care what happened between us. Here? You’re my boss. And I have a job to do. So, let’s just—let’s keep it professional, okay?”
I smirk. “You sure you can handle that?”
She glares. “You think highly of yourself. I can handle it. The question is, can you?”
I chuckle, standing my ground. She’s dressed professionally, but it doesn’t stop me from replaying what she looks and feels like underneath her clothes. “We’ll see how long the formality lasts. Care to make a wager?”
She doesn’t dignify me with a response. Instead, she turns sharply on her heels and stalks toward the office.
But she can’t hide how her body trembled before she stomped off or how her hands shook slightly.
And there’s no explanation for her deep exhale as she tried to steady herself or ward off signs of her attraction.
I know she’s wet for me.
This is going to be fun .
I check my phone as I lounge in my office, a whiskey glass in one hand. A new message from Amara pops up.
We need to talk about the clientele situation. I don’t think hosting private VIP rooms for certain types of guests is a good idea.
I smirk, typing back.
Certain types?
The kind that wears thousand-dollar suits but gives off serial killer vibes.
That’s half our clientele.
Exactly my point.
Relax. They’re just businessmen.
You’re a businessman. They’re criminals.
I chuckle. If only she knew.
Same thing.
Three dots appear, then disappear. I can practically hear her frustrated sigh.
Just… can we not let the place turn this into a full-blown crime den?
I’ll consider it.
That means no, doesn’t it?
You’re catching on fast.
She doesn’t reply immediately, and for a second, I wonder if I’ve pushed too far. But then?—
I hate you.
I grin.
You sure about that?
Professionally, I hate you.
Professionally, I think you like me.
No response.
I set my phone on the desk, smirking to myself.
This is going to be very, very interesting.