In the office lined with dark wood and ancient books, Enzo paced back and forth, like a caged beast. His eyes burned. His patience was in ruins.
"Dad, I need to find that little thief!"
He growled.
"That woman… she challenged me. She helped me, yes, but then… she robbed me. The gun. The most expensive one. My favorite!"
Heitor raised his eyes from the newspaper calmly.
"That gun of all guns? The 12 million relic?" He sighed. "Shit…"
What a cunning woman.
"Beautiful, wonderful, cunning…"
Enzo threw the glass of whiskey against the wall.
"Little thief!"
I will find you. I swear I will find you.
Heitor watched him in silence for a few seconds. Then he let out a low laugh, laden with irony.
"Interesting... my son, calling a woman beautiful.
That's new. You're really affected, huh?"
Enzo clenched his jaw.
"Don't start."
"I'm just saying…"
Heitor stood up, adjusting his cuffs. "If you're going to venture out, let it be now. Because tomorrow…"
"What?"
"Tomorrow we have a dinner. At the Mancini's house. Your fiancee has arrived.
You will meet her officially. You will sit at the table with her. And you will be pleasant."
Silence.
Enzo blinked, expressionless.
"Terrible."
"It's what we have, Enzo. Go. Put on your best face of a mafia man in love.
Or pretend, at least."
Enzo left the room without answering, his heart pounding with fury and adrenaline.
What he didn't know…
is that destiny was laughing at him at that moment.
Because the woman he swore to find…
was the same woman he was about to get engaged to.
...---...
Enzo Romano
The music was loud, the atmosphere hot. Too many people. Too many voices.
Too many thoughts.
I entered that nightclub as always: without intending to stay, without intending to feel.
I just wanted the silence that chaos sometimes brings.
That's when I saw her.
Brunette. Sculptural body. Dress too tight to be elegant, but tight enough to make eyes bleed.
She saw me too. Instant attraction.
Or maybe just instinct.
I know instinct. Love, no.
We didn't exchange names. Just glances.
And a few minutes later, we were in the penthouse suite.
The jacket fell first. Then the shirt. Then the limits.
She tried to touch my face.
"No…"
My voice came out low, firm.
"Don't touch. Just feel."
I took my tie and tied her wrists to the top of the bed.
She moaned in surprise. I smiled.
There, in control, in absolute dominance… was where I found peace.
Brief, but enough.
There was no delicacy. There never is.
Pleasure, for me, has always been more about power than surrender.
She was beautiful, yes. Hot, intense. But she was no different from the others.
She aroused nothing but sweat and fatigue.
When it was all over, I got up.
I untied her hands without haste. I threw the tie aside. I went to the bathroom.
I threw the condom in the toilet. I flushed.
On the way out, I placed some bills on the table.
She looked at me. Was she expecting something? Maybe a word. A compliment. Any lie.
"Thank you for the escape,"
I said, grabbing my jacket.
"But now go back to the world."
I left without looking back.
And yet…
the damn little thief still wouldn't leave my head.
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