Chapter 8 Temptation in the Dark

Isabella Vitale

The club was quieter now. It was after midnight, the music a faint pulse beneath the low hum of chatter. Most patrons were more interested in the shadows than in the drinks. Inferno had always been a place where secrets came to die-or live forever, depending on how much you were willing to pay.

I stood by the bar, hands wrapped around a glass of bourbon that wasn't mine, pretending to clean an already spotless counter. It was the routine I'd built for myself. Fake, calculated, far from who I used to be. But it worked.

Tonight, though, something in the air was different.

Maybe it was the way Alessandro walked into the room.

I didn't look up at first. I couldn't. The tension was thick enough to choke on, and I needed a moment longer to steel myself.

I wasn't supposed to care.

He was just another mafia boss.

But then I heard his voice, deep and controlled, cutting through the noise like a blade.

"You look like you're hiding from me."

I didn't turn. "I don't hide."

"You do when I'm around."

I put the glass down, slowly. The words stung more than I wanted them to.

He was standing close now-too close. I could feel the heat of his body against mine, the electricity humming in the air.

"Maybe I like my space," I said, keeping my back to him. I knew it was a lie, but I wasn't going to make it easy. Not yet.

He didn't respond immediately. There was a heavy silence, then the soft scrape of his chair against the floor as he sat down beside me. His scent reached me first, sharp and intoxicating, before his presence fully settled.

"You look like you have a lot of thoughts," he said, his voice quieter now. "Care to share?"

I could feel his eyes on me, studying. Not asking for permission-demanding it.

"You don't care what I think," I said. My voice came out quieter than I intended, almost uncertain.

"Then why are you still here?" His question hung in the air, sharp and curious. The challenge was clear in his tone, but there was something else too-a flicker of something else beneath that steel exterior.

I swallowed.

"I'm here because you wanted me to be."

A smile tugged at his lips, slow and predatory. "And you think I can't read you, Bella?"

I turned to face him then, and his eyes locked with mine-deep, dangerous, like they could see everything I was hiding and everything I wasn't willing to admit. There was no turning away now.

"Stop calling me that," I said, though I didn't mean it. He could call me whatever he wanted. The words were just an excuse to break the silence.

His gaze flickered to my lips for the briefest second, and it felt like the temperature in the room jumped. "I'll call you whatever I want," he said softly.

A challenge.

One I wasn't sure I wanted to take on, but one I knew was inevitable.

"You don't know anything about me," I shot back, leaning forward just slightly, my body betraying my words.

"You're wrong," he said. His voice was a whisper, but his words carried. "I know exactly what you are, Bella."

"And what's that?"

"A liar."

The word hung there, burning in the space between us. I should've denied it, should've pushed back harder, but I couldn't find the words.

"Who's lying, exactly?" I whispered.

He leaned in closer, his breath warm against my skin, a mere inch away. "You are," he said, voice low and dangerous. "You lie to yourself every time you look at me and pretend you're not thinking about what this would be like... if you let yourself feel."

My heart stuttered in my chest.

I wasn't supposed to feel anything.

I wasn't supposed to want to feel anything.

But the way he looked at me-like I was something both beneath him and above his reach-made it almost impossible to breathe.

I couldn't let this happen.

I straightened, finally pulling away, though every cell in my body screamed to lean in. I wasn't ready for whatever this was-whatever he was pushing me toward.

"I don't want this," I said, more to myself than to him.

His eyes didn't shift. He didn't flinch.

"You already do," he replied. "And that's what makes this so interesting."

Before I could respond, Luca entered the room with a casual swagger, cutting the tension like a blade through soft butter. He caught sight of us, paused for a moment, then smirked.

"Am I interrupting something?"

I quickly moved away, shaking my head, though the heat in my cheeks betrayed me. Alessandro didn't move, his eyes still trained on me, lingering.

"No," Alessandro replied smoothly, his tone never losing that calm, dangerous edge. "We were just talking."

Luca's eyes twinkled as he looked between the two of us. "Funny, I thought you were going to ask her to dance." He winked at me before walking off.

I barely contained my sigh.

Alessandro didn't look at Luca. He never did. His focus was entirely on me.

And for the first time, I wasn't sure whether I was playing a game or whether I was the one being played.