Hearts At War

Hearts At War

1. The First Dance

ℂ 𝔸 𝕄 𝕀 𝕃 𝕃 𝔼    𝔻 𝔸 𝕍 𝕀 𝕊

I smoothly rolled my shining black Mercedes-Benz into an empty parking lot behind the restaurant. Mercedes Benz might sound like a lot for an Executive chef working in a high-end restaurant, but having rich parents does have its perk. Only if they were alive... Taking a quick glance at my appearance in the rearview mirror of my car, I ran my fingers through my smooth, dark brown hair tied in a high ponytail. Walking away, I made sure I heard the beep of my car locking. As the guard opened the glass door for me, I was instantly hit with the soft, pleasing vanilla scent mixed with the fresh aroma of coffee beans and cinnamon. Usually, mornings were peaceful at Pearl's, but today it was crowded with decorators, coordinators, and helpers. Everyone was busy with today's party preparation. Fresh flowers were being placed on every table, and new paintings were being hung. Walking towards the kitchen, I glanced towards the bar. My grey eyes locked with a pair of blue ones for a fleeting moment bringing a small smirk to my face. After ensuring everything was smoothly functioning in the kitchen, I ordered my regular coffee. I sat at my favorite table, which was on the restaurant's outdoor patio, right beside the beautiful ocean.

"Chef." I looked up to find the blue pair of eyes beaming down at me.

"Yes, Brandy?" I smirked, enjoying his annoyed expression. Brandon absolutely hated his nickname. Annoying your best friend for no valid reason. Check.

"It's Caleb, Chef." He looked around to make sure no one heard me before placing a white file on my table.

"Pardon, Mr. Brandy." I smiled, but my smile didn't last long as he jabbed his finger in his ear hole, twisted it for good measure, and then stirred the same friggin finger in my delicious coffee. Asshole. But karma was quick as the coffee was steaming hot, and he burnt his finger. I couldn't help but laugh out loud at his stupidity. I did get a stare from our regular bald head customer and his wife. Brandon hunched down to my ear, his annoyed demeanor fading.

"All details of today's operation are in here. Make sure everything goes as planned. We won't get a better opportunity than this." He whispered before pulling back. "Enjoy your salty coffee, Chef." He winked.

"Enjoy your hot finger, Caleb." I winked back, and he flipped me off before walking away. I peeked inside the file, and sure enough, there were pictures of the bastard responsible for my parent's death, along with some other documents. I took in a deep breath. The blurred image of my dad's dead face flashed before me. Blood pooling out of the hole in his head... his hand reaching out to mum who lay a few meters away from him on the floor, also cold dead.

Today is your only shot at avenging your parents. You can do this, Cami. Just act professional and don't lose your shit. Even if you feel the strong urge to skim that bastard alive and toss him in boiling water as soon as you see him, you'll have to control yourself. I exhaled deeply, swallowing my tears.

"Tough morning, is it Camille?" The sweet voice of Emily—the owner of the restaurant, pulled me out of my thoughts. I realized I had bunched my hand into fists. Shaking away my thoughts, I adjusted my posture.

"Emily." I smiled as she took a seat before me, taking off her coat. "I guess. Today's party is going to be a big one." I said, implying that I was aware of mafia figures attending the party tonight.

"Yes. And I expect nothing less than perfect from you." She beamed before motioning for one of the servers to bring her regular breakfast.

"You can be assured. Tonight will be the most unforgettable party of the year." I smiled, knowing fully well how much wreck it was going to be.

"I trust you completely. With famous public figures and businessmen here tonight, we might even be able to strike a deal for a new project I had in mind." She chuckled in excitement. If only she knew that tonight's events would destroy her restaurant's prestige forever.

"Is that the party's menu?" She asked, pointing to the file.

"Yes, I was making some changes to the menu." I lied.

"Can I see?" Fuck.

"I still have to finalize a few things. I'll email you the final version." I smiled, getting up.

"Oh, alright." She shrugged. As I walked towards my office, I noticed Greg—the manager, quietly motioning four men to settle two huge wooden boxes inside the cold storage. I approached Greg, who was now locking the door.

"What were those boxes? I didn't order anything today."

"It's for the party." He informed me nonchalantly.

"Everything for the party was already stocked in the inventory two days ago."

"Don't poke your nose in things that don't involve you." He rudely spat before storming away. Two armed men stood by the door, passing me weird glances. Huffing, I went to my office and immediately called Brandon.

"The shipment is here, as expected. They have locked it in the cold storage and placed two armed men to guard it."

"Perfect. The guards are on you. I am informing our men to be ready."

"Tell them to be quick and not attract anyone's attention." I ended the call and grabbed the electric taser from my desk. I made my way toward the cold storage. Sneaking behind the man closer to the gate, I tasered him. His body dropped to the floor with a thud, alerting the other man. The man immediately pulled out his phone to inform his boss, but I knocked his phone down with a kick. He tried taking a jab at my face, but I ducked and shoved his body into the wall behind him, making him groan in pain. Taking advantage of our position, he slipped his leg between mine and tripped me on the tiled floor. Groaning, I kicked him in the shins, flipped us over, and threw a punch at his face, but that didn't knock him out. Grabbing his gun from the holster, I slammed the butt on his forehead, knocking him out for good.

"You could have lent me a hand out here instead of leaning on the wall and watching me," I smirked at Greg, who was now unlocking the cold storage door.

"I enjoy watching you kick people's ass." He winked, and I shook my head.

"You know, after this, you need to go undercover, right?" I asked while hurriedly opening one of the wooden boxes, and sure enough, there were packs of high quality drugs with the logo PM.

"Don't worry. The Parkers won't be able to track me. But I'll be by your side the moment you need me." He smiled, and I reciprocated his gesture.

"The boys will handle the rest. Let's go before someone else notices." Brandon advised, peeking from the door. I nodded, getting back to the kitchen. The rest of the day went by quickly. Being the head chef is quite tiring, but I love managing people and being around food. An hour before the party, I got home, showered, and changed into a black, floor-length gown that hugged my body like a glove.

"Are you sure you would be able to run in that?" Brandon chuckled, leaning against my bedroom door and checking me out. This bastard.

"I gave you the house keys for emergency purposes." I scowled. He didn't bother to answer and flopped on my bed with a bag of chips in his hands.

"With your hobo attire, I assume you won't be joining the party?" I asked, applying a decent coat of red lipstick.

"Obviously, Camille. The motherfucker we are after knows me. Am I supposed to serve him drinks?" He rolled his eyes while scrolling through his phone.

"Doesn't sound like a bad plan to me." I teased. "You look adorable in the waiter's uniform." I chuckled, brushing my wavy hair.

"Call me adorable again, and I'll kill you." He threatened, throwing a chip at me.

"How do I look?" I asked, turning to him.

"Gorgeous enough to make at least five gentlemen fall in love." He winked.

"You know there is no place for drama in my life." After that horrible night, there was only one purpose in my life. Avenge my parents. Sure, I had flings here and there, but there was no place for love.

"That's what I have been listening to for the last two years of our friendship. At least try to make friends so I can share the burden of your bullshit with someone."

"I do have friends." I pouted, grabbing my phone.

"Greg and I don't count. We are allies united with mutual cause." He winked.

"There is Cassandra," I answered proudly.

"For the love of God, she is a 28-year-old lady and was your mother's friend, Camille. And she only visits you once a year." He ridiculed. Ok, he does have a point.

"I am not a people person, okay? I'm a homebody, and I love it." I shrugged, grabbing the blue diamond-shaped necklace from my dresser. It was the only thing I kept of my mum. It even had her sweet scent. Locking it around my neck, I smiled at the reflection in the mirror.

"That's what every lonely person tells himself." I flipped him off, and he rolled his eyes.

"Are you armed?" He raised his brow, and I put my right leg forward, revealing the handgun attached to my thigh through the slit.

"Do you think our plan will work?" I questioned.

"My plans never fail, Camille. Just remember that bastard might be strong, but you are smart. Have fun, kick his ass, and don't die." He winked.

"Don't worry. I won't die so easily. Not before destroying that motherfucker."

𝕂 𝔸 𝕀    ℙ 𝔸 ℝ 𝕂 𝔼 ℝ

"Boss, the shipment for the Italians has reached the location," Joshua informed me as I sipped from my coffee, perched on my throne.

"Make sure everything goes smoothly tonight. Even though I don't need anyone, having connections around the world is always favorable." He nodded before leaving. As I flipped through some documents of our new deal with the Italians, the door to my office slammed open, making me roll my eyes in frustration.

"How many times do I have to tell you to fucking knock before entering?"

"And how often do I tell you to take your fucking head out of your ass?" Lorenzo snapped back, making his way to my desk with an iPad. He was not just my second in command but my best friend at the same time. Only he could talk back to me and not have his head chopped off brutally. Well, he and my ten-year-old brother, Leo.

"You were right with your suspicion. Your mother is screwing us over." I scrolled through the pictures on the iPad of my mother shaking hands with Brandon Alessandro Black—the leader of the Black Mafia. My hand bunched into a fist as rage swept over me, thrumming through my veins. All this time, mother had been plotting against me.

"Your mother also planned last week's attack at our farmhouse. She wants you and Leo dead. And your old nemesis, Brandon, is helping her." I slammed my fist on the wooden table, closing my eyes to calm the smoldering rage inside me.

"What are we going to do?" Enzo asked. Pulling open my side drawer, I fished out my pistol and the loaded magazine.

"Where is she?" I asked.

"Kai. I am well aware of what happens to traitor in our mafia, but she is your mother."

"I am asking this for the last time. Where is she, Lorenzo?" I was blinded by anger. Father was right. Betrayal always comes from the close ones.

"She is at her lake house."

"Have her house burned down," I ordered. "And make sure she is in there." I seethed through my teeth.

"Are you positive? She is your mother, after all, Kai."

"Enzo, I would have forgiven her if she had just tried to kill me. But she dared to put her hands on Leo."

"Alright, I am informing Monti." He nodded, pulling out his phone.

"I already did." Our heads snapped to the office door where Leo stood; all dressed up in his cowboy outfit. I guess living with me, and Enzo has taken a toll on him. "They will send the footage soon. I would have stayed to watch mama burn down to ashes with you, but I promised Dila I would ride her today. See you later."

"Are you sure he was talking about his horse Dila?" Enzo asked as we watched Leo walk away.

"Do you think it's time we show him to a psychiatrist?" I frowned.

"It's too late now." He chuckled. Carlos entered my office with a knock. "Boss, the Italians will be at the party in an hour."

"Perfect. Get our men ready. We will leave in an hour too." I commanded. "Everything is under your control, right?" Carlos nodded.

"Yes, boss. Our man, Greg, is on guard. The shipment is secure." He assured.

"Good because I won't tolerate any mistakes."

We reached the restaurant where the Italian Don- Dominic had organized the party. The restaurant was heavily guarded, and I noticed some famous businessmen and public figures joining the party. Lorenzo being the womanizer was already seized by the ladies.

"Parker." Dominic greeted, extending his hand.

"Dominic." I shook his hand firmly. "The party looks great." We settled by a cocktail table, and he ordered some drinks.

"I decided why not celebrate our new partnership. Although I don't know how appropriate it is when you lost your mother today." He whispered the last part.

"You can't be the one to talk about family and feelings, Dominic. After you buried your brother alive and threw a party instead of a funeral." I ridiculed him, watching a smirk form on his face.

"Let's cheers to our fucked up lives then." He laughed, raising his glass.

"Talk about yourself. I love my life." I knocked down the wine, smirking.

"You are exactly as they said. Arrogant, ruthless, and a narcissist."

"They forgot to add dangerous." I laughed, and he shook his head. The melodious laugh of a woman made me turn on my heels. Two tables away, I noticed a lady in a long black gown that fitted her like a glove. Her glossy, wavy hair was right out of a shampoo commercial, and her beautiful grey eyes sparkled as she chuckled at something the man said. She was a fucking piece of art.

"Brother?" Enzo nudged me, but I didn't take my eyes off the attractive lady.

"What?"

"Is that your jaw on the floor?" I looked where he was pointing, only making him laugh out loud. Asshole. I hated myself for falling for his trick.

"Inform me when you grow up." I spat, and he shook his head, grinning. Jerk.

"So she is the one you're celebrating with tonight?" He winked, and I shook my head.

"That kind of beauty deserves to be worshipped. And you know worshipping someone is not my style." I glanced at her again, only to see her walking towards our table.

"Yeah, your style is to be worshipped."

"True that." I knocked down the rest of the wine, feeling the sweet burn in my neck.

"Mr. Dominic. Hope you are having a lovely evening." The lady approached Dominic, and they engaged in a small conversation.

"You got bored early today?" I asked, and he shook his head.

"Carlos told me he can't find his man, Greg," Enzo whispered, and I sensed the uneasiness in his tone.

"Tell him I'll fucking gouge his bloody eyes if he screws up something." I seethed.

"I'll do it before you." He clinked his glass of whiskey with mine before knocking it down.

"Enzo, am I hallucinating, or is this lady ignoring my existence?" I asked, watching her across the table.

"Maybe she is too shy even to converse with you." A frown etched on my forehead as I noticed her left hand slowly sneak under the table. Well, well, well. Would you look at that? A goofy smirk spread on my lips as I watched her place a listening device under the table and switch it on effortlessly. Dominic was too distracted by her conversation to pay attention.

"She definitely doesn't look shy," I smirked as she excused herself from Dominic.

"Excuse me, gentlemen." I parted from the table, catching up with her firm steps.

"Where do you think you are going, sweetheart?" I snatched her waist, wrenching her back in my arms. She gulped quickly, glancing around the dance hall only to find all eyes on her.

"What do you think you are doing? Let go." The hint of command in her voice startled me. Well, this is clearly a first.

"Try fighting my hold, and there would be a fucking bullethole in your head," I replied, slightly increasing the intensity of my hold around her waist. She was completely unphased by my threat.

"What do you want?" Her confident grey eyes stared dead into my emerald ones. For me, confidence was the sexiest thing a woman could wear.

"Answers," I ordered, subtly showing her the listening device I had plucked from the table before pocketing it. She scoffed, implying that I wouldn't get anything out of her easily. I smirked, twirling her around twice and letting go of her hand, watching her pupils expand before I snatched her back in my arms. Her breath hitched as her body collided with mine.

"I might look sweet, but I am pure evil-" I glanced down at the small badge clipped to her dress. "Executive Chef Camille." Grabbing her thigh, I dipped her over, and at that moment, I caught a glimpse of her handgun through the slit in her dress. While pulling her back up, I smoothly unclasped her pocket gun and pushed it under my coat. She was completely clueless that I stripped off her handgun. Probably too charmed by my looks.

"Who said you looked sweet-" She mockingly looked down at my chest before meeting my eyes. "You don't have a badge on." She smirked. Damn she has a sassy tongue on her. I pulled her close, her hands went around my neck, and I lowered my lips to her ears. Her sweet yet sharp scent instantly filled my senses.

"Let's not fool each other. You clearly know who I am." I whispered in her ear before pulling away. A small smirk etched on her lips as she placed her hand back in mine.

"And to answer your question, Women identical to you." Her head snapped to me, clearly offended.

"You better get your eyesight checked, Mr. Malachai, because I'm nothing like the women you have met til now." She claimed, and my lips twitched.

"I won't disagree. No women had the audacity to call me by my full name before." I smirked, syncing my steps to the beat and leading her, but Camille was competitive as she kept trying to take the lead. I had to give it to her; she was good at dancing. The way music flowed through her body was flawless.

"So are you going to tell me who you work for and why you placed that bug under my table, or do I have to pluck your beautifully manicured nails one by one until you finally submit?" She chuckled. Her laugh was cute. Almost adorable.

"Is that what big mobsters like you do? Pluck nails for answers? That's adorable." She mocked, her eyes twinkling with pride. Ok, she might be adorable, but her mouth would definitely get her in trouble. I twirled her half around, softly pulling her back from her hand. Her back brushed against my front as our arms overlapped.

"I can easily snap your neck with my bare hands, too, if you continue to tire your extremely poisonous tongue," I whispered in her ear.

"I would like to see you try." She challenged, turning to face me.

"It'll be a pity to kill such a beauty without savoring it." I pulled her closer by her waist.

"Don't make me twist your hand until you beg me to let it go." She threatened, intentionally stepping on my shoes with her heel.

"I would like to see you try." I mocked back. She rolled her eyes, and I scoffed.

"I am sorry. Did I roll my eyes loudly?"

"Don't be. I am used to seeing women's eyes roll. It usually happens with no clothes on." I winked.

"Ever considered the possibility of those women being possessed?" She mused. Oh, how I wish I could strangle her with my fucking hand right then and there.

"By ugly spirits with a bad taste in men." She continued. Did she imply I am ugly, unattractive, or a red flag?

"You are aware you are talking to a mafia boss who could literally slit your throat out for annoying him?" Her defying grey eyes bored into mine as she boldly moved closer, implying she wasn't scared by me at all.

Who the fuck does she think she is?

"Yes, I know that people like you have a tolerance level of a two-year-old." My jaw clenched as I suppressed the desire to break her neck the next moment. "I wonder what you'll do when you discover I singlehandedly sabotaged your deal with the Italians." Before I could react, there was a flash of bullets and screams of people. Two guards took me down to the ground with them, and Camille took the opportunity to get free of my hold and run inside.

"Kai, Greg has set up a trap against us. We need to leave immediately," Enzo commanded, looking around.

"Wait for me in the car," I ordered before stalking Camille in the hallway. I saw her rushing inside the kitchen. "Stay here," I ordered Monti and Marcos to guard the kitchen before following Camille. She had her back to me, and she was texting someone.

"If only running away from Kai Parker was this easy." I caged her against the counter, placing my hands on the cold marble. She jumped, hearing my voice, turning to face me. Damnit, why does she have to be this attractive?

"Who said I was running?" She replied, and I watched her right hand slowly travel down to her thigh to grab her gun. My lips twitched in amusement.

"Looking for this?" I asked, pulling out her little pistol from my back before pressing it against her forehead. Blood drained from her face as she realized she was absolutely defenseless in front of me.

Well, isn't this going to be fun?

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