Chapter 4 LENA

"Or, you could stay here with me" he whispered into my ear like the devil, his hot breath tickled the nape of my neck and I shivered. The man was charming, confident, the very definition of a made-man, but I wasn't the kind of girl to give in easily, but he didn't look like the kind of man to take no for an answer either.

"Really? And why would I want to stay with you?" I asked, cocking my head to the side, challenging his authority. The man's gaze darkened possessivly as he tugged me closer.

The tension between both of us grew with each passing second. I knew what he wanted--that was lust in his eyes. Like a storm on the horizon. There was a dangerous allure about him. His broad shoulders and athletic build were accentuated in that well-tailored suit. He was handsome, and he spoke like a man that was used to getting his way.

"Why wouldn't you? I know you find me attractive." he said, confidence dripping with every word.

"pfft. That's cute, but sorry, that's not enough reason to ki-"

I gasped when his lips pressed against my neck without warning, cutting off whatever it was that I was about to say. They were soft, sensual. I didn't know when a moan escaped my lips, and he smirked against my neck. A shy blush dusted my cheeks as his warmth spread through me.

Every instinct told me to walk away right now, to head back to Jazz and the safety of our table. But something else was happening-something I hadn't felt in a long time.

Why the hell not--I thought, feeling the thrill run through my veins now.

The fairy dust coursing through my system made me feel bold, reckless. But at some point, I wondered if it was really that or the way his hands had steadied me, the way his touch lingered on my skin just a little too long? He was handsome, undeniably so-a sharp jawline, his smoldering eyes that looked straight into my soul, and the way his lips curled into that half-smile that sent heat straight through me. The danger radiating off him was like a magnet, drawing me in even though I knew better than to play with this fire. Was I flying too close to the sun? Perhaps.

I swallowed the knot that had formed in my throat, feeling my own desire begin to build. The dark, yet intimate ambiance of the hall added to this. A group of drunken women approached us, laughing and giggling, but they stopped when they saw the man and I, but he never tore his gaze away from me. My eyes met one of the women's, a tall blonde woman with gunmetal blue eyes and there was a visible change in her countenance. I couldn't mistake the look she gave me. It looked like annoyance and hurt, swirling in a dangerous cocktail of jealousy. And when the man didn't bother to turn to them, like I was the only thing that mattered, the woman turned on her heels and exited the space and the other woman followed. A confused look on her face.

"Friends of yours?" I asked, unable to keep my curiosity to myself.

"They're irrelevant..." came his response. Dismissive and short. He regarded those women in the same manner one would handle a buzzing mosquito in their ear.

"What's your name?" he asked. My lips pressed into a thin line as my brows frowned. He wanted to know my name.

"Clarice," I said. My heart racing.

"Clarice? That's such a delicate name for some as fiery as you, Cara Mia"

"What's yours?" I asked. He narrowed his gaze at me and I gave him a tight-lipped smile. It wasn't a lie, per se. But depending on how tonight went, the possibility of seeing him again was slim, so, I didn't feel obligated to tell him my real name.

The silence stretched between us, as though he were contemplating whether or not to tell me his name as well. I cocked my head to the side, silently urging him to tell me, and he smiled.

"Vincenzo Maranzano..."

The words rolled off his tongue like a dark promise and my eyes went as wide as saucers. That name held a lot of weight and I started to reconsider if this was a good idea after all. Fucking around with a guy like Vincenzo Maranzano was bad news and could fuck me up in more ways than I'd liked. He wasn't just another criminal around the block; he was the one pulling the strings behind most of the city's illicit activities and of all the men in this damned club, I'd gone and attracted his attention. His lifestyle was both lavish but extremely dangerous-mansions, expensive cars, hidden estates. The dark, oppressive world he ruled was full of violence, treachery, and danger. His wealth and power alone put him at the top of the metaphorical food chain, and I was most likely somewhere near the bottom of that. But the thing with men like him was that they were always emotionally broken and had the tendency to become obsessive. I should know, after all, I spent the last three and half years of my life studying about people like that.

Vincenzo's eyes lit up with an unbridled amusement that made me take a step back, but he tightened his hold around me just enough to pull me even closer, further trapping me. His hands roamed my waist, sliding lower through treacherous routes and I grabbed his arm, stopping him from probing further, but even that wasn't enough to stop him from getting what he wanted, and what he wanted was me. I could feel it in his touch and I hated how my body reacted to him immediately, fire coursing through me as he explored my curves through the fabric of my dress.

"I'm not that kind of girl..." I let out a shaky protest as he buried his face in the crouch of my neck again, his cold nose rubbing up and down the length of my neck like a hungry predator.

"You're not?" he murmured against my ear, his voice thick and seductive. "What kind of girl are you then, red? A good girl, a bad girl, or my girl?" His hands gripped my thigh firmly.

The subtle hint at my dyed hair made me snicker and I pulled back just enough to meet his gaze. At least he had a sense of humor, albeit laced with mockery. "...actually, I'm the kind of girl that can steal your heart and your soul," I wasn't kidding.

I didn't miss the subtle shift of excitement and curiosity swirling in Vincenzo's black eyes as he spun and pinned me against the wall, his weight pressing down on me. His hand moved slowly down my side, grazing the bare skin above my thigh. It wasn't rough, but it wasn't gentle either. It was possessive, and it made my body ache with a need I hadn't expected.

"My heart? Men like me don't have hearts, Cara mia. Talk less of a soul." he chuckled.

"Everyone has a soul."

"And what if I told you I sold my soul to the devil a long time ago?"

"The devil doesn't scare me..."

I tried to match his level of confidence with mine as I pulled out the sliver crucifix pendant that had been hidden away between my cleavages and kissed it softly. His lips twitched. A smile threatened to slip through. I never went anywhere without it.

"Why aren't you running away?"

"If I did, would you chase after me?" I whispered back, letting my hand rest on his broad shoulder. A low grunt of approval left his lips, the smoldering intensity in his gaze showed me a glimpse of what was to come soon. To make a dangerous man like Vincenzo Maranzano shiver and desire me made me feel all sorts of power right now. Maybe it was the tequila talking, or maybe it was the primal hunger surging through my veins, but I didn't care anymore, and I let the pendant fall back on my chest.

Vincenzo's lips curled into a satisfied smirk. "I don't like to chase."

With that, he pulled me flush against his chest, his body hard and unyielding. I could feel the strength in him, the power that thrummed just beneath the surface. He was dangerous, yes, but at that moment, danger was what I craved. My hands found their way to his chest, feeling the hard muscle beneath his shirt as his hands continued their exploration of my own body, as though committing every hip, dip and curve to memory.

Every one of his touches sent my senses spiraling. His hands slid down my back, grazing my hips, before settling firmly on my arse cheeks, pulling me closer until there was no space left between us. There was no mistaking the sensation between my legs build as I rubbed against his cock that strained in his pants, begging to be released.