Chapter 7 Shadows & Stares

Eros' POV

From where I sat in the VIP booth, the club looked like a living organism-dark, pulsing, electric. The lights painted the room in flashes of red and violet, shadows dancing across faces, hiding intentions and revealing desire. I wasn't really paying attention to the music or the bodies moving below. My focus was singular. Locked.

On her.

The same woman who had glared at me with fire in her eyes over a ruined dress now looked like a damn angel. And that pissed me off. Because I knew I owed her an apology.

The logical part of my brain acknowledged that we were both at fault that night-I'd been distracted, she'd been in the way. But the stubborn, prideful beast inside me refused to let the words form. Apologies were for weaker men. And Eros Esposito had never bowed to anyone. Still... the way she laughed now, carefree and unbothered, sent an unfamiliar pang through my chest.

Zolina wasn't even trying to look sexy. She just was. Effortlessly. The black dress wrapped around her figure like it had been sewn with her in mind. The same woman who had snapped at me over a designer dress now floated like a dream across the dance floor. Her curves swayed to the beat of a Nicki Minaj song, her hair catching flashes of light, and I couldn't look away.

That woman was dangerous. Not because of how she looked-but because she made me feel. And that was something I'd locked away a long time ago.

Both men and women were looking at her, but she didn't care. She was having fun, grinding up on my sister and her friends. My hand tightened around my glass. I didn't like the way those men were looking at her-like they were undressing her with their eyes. I wish I were down there to punch their faces in, but that would show that she affected me. And that was the last thing I would ever admit to anyone.

She's only an enemy; I'm helping to kick-start her career.

"Earth to Eros," a deep voice drawled beside me. I blinked, tearing my gaze away to see my two best friends staring at me with matching smirks. "She's beautiful," Ciro said, leaning back in his seat. "You've been staring at her like a man on the verge of doing something stupid."

I ignored him.

Vincenzo chuckled, already connecting the dots. "Wait-is that the girl from the event? The one who told you to shove your money where the sun doesn't shine?" I let out a quiet sigh, took a sip from my glass, and nodded once. "She's got balls," Ciro said, impressed. "No one ever says no to you."

"That's what makes her different," I muttered. "But she's just a girl, I'm helping build her career. Nothing special there," I said, clearly lying to myself. "Bro, we both know you don't mean that," Ciro said, chuckling along with Vincenzo.

Fuck. They knew me too well.

My mind goes back to the scene in the hallway where we had a stare-off. None of us wanted to back off, and the fact that she resisted submitting almost forced a smile on my face. Almost. I couldn't help but be more intrigued by her.

I look over the railing, watching her throw her head back and laugh at something one of Evara's friends said. "Maybe, but nothing should be there. At all," I emphasized, turning my head back to throw the bitter drink down my throat. Vincenzo just gave me a look that said I was bullshitting.

He leaned back into the couch, swirling the dark liquor in his glass. He had the air of someone who had seen too much in this world. He probably had.

Vincenzo Morelli wasn't the kind of man you casually introduced at parties. He was the don of the Morelli family- ruthless, strategic, and feared by many, except the two of us. Our bond had been forged in childhood, long before he became who he was today. Underneath the title and the violence, he was loyal to a fault. My parents still called him 'Vinnie' and hugged him like a son. Funny how things turned out.

And then there was Ciro.

Ciro Mancini-calm, calculated, sharp. He had taken his passion for structure and turned it into one of the most prestigious architectural firms in the Middle East. He had been away for months, working on a high-profile museum project in Abu Dhabi. That's why tonight was supposed to be a catch-up night. Brotherhood. Whisky. Laughter.

Instead, I was staring at a woman I couldn't stop thinking about. "She's not the only familiar face tonight," Ciro said casually, looking over my shoulder. I turned slightly as he tilted his head toward the far end of the club. My eyes followed his line of sight-straight to Evara.

My sister.

She was laughing, her hand resting gently on her friend's arm-Zolina. She looked stunning tonight. Confident. Alive. Ciro cleared his throat. "Is she friends with your caramel beauty?"

"Best friends," I said, overlooking his choice of words. It's like talking to a damn wall at this point.

He blinked. "Best... Oh." I smirked. "You're in for a ride, my friend."

Ciro's face gave nothing away, but I could see the flicker in his the same flicker I'd seen before, whenever Evara was mentioned. That wasn't just an interest. That was history.

I stood and walked toward the railing that overlooked the dance floor. The crowd below looked like a wave, one endless, undulating movement. After a moment, I felt Ciro beside me. He sighed, long and deep. "Your sister looks beautiful tonight."

I didn't look at him when I responded. "If you don't care about her, forget about her. Right now. Despite how long we've been boys, I'll break your face if you even think about hurting Evara."

He turned toward me, his expression serious. "I care about her more than you know. I've loved her for years, Eros. I just- I don't think she's ready. Not after what happened two years ago."

"The breakup?" I scoffed. "That was years ago, Ciro. She's not the same girl. And she loves you too. She's just scared." "And do not forget that we dealt with the fucker who hurt her," I reminded him. He shook his head. "Yes, we did. But she was in a bad place after that breakup. I don't even know if she sees me like that anymore."

"I may not know much about love, but I know what unspoken feelings look like," I said, turning to meet his eyes. "And trust me-there's something there. She took the time to heal herself. You just need to stop overthinking and take a leap. Go after her before someone else does."

He didn't respond immediately. I placed a hand on his back, giving him a firm pat. "Don't let fear ruin something that could be the best thing that ever happened to you." Then I turned and walked back to the booth, leaving him at the railing-still staring at my sister like she was the only light in a dark room.

As I settled back into my seat, Vincenzo smirked at me over the rim of his glass. "So, you're giving love advice now?" I shot him a glare. "Shut up." He chuckled, but his amusement faded as his gaze flickered toward the entrance. His posture shifted subtly, but I noticed.

"Problem?" I asked. "Just business," he murmured, but the way his jaw tightened told me it was more than that. Before I could press further, a commotion near the bar caught my attention.

Zolina was lip syncing the song playing, her body moving with the music. But then a man-some cocky bastard in a too-tight shirt-stepped too close, his hand brushing her waist.

My grip on my glass turned white-knuckled.

She didn't seem fazed, just sidestepped him with a polite but firm smile. But the guy didn't take the hint. He leaned in again, saying something that made her expression darken.,I was on my feet before I realized it.

Vincenzo's hand clamped down on my wrist. "Easy, tiger." "I'm just going to"

"You're going to start a scene," he said, voice low. "And we don't need that kind of attention tonight." I clenched my jaw but forced myself to sit back down. Then, like she sensed my frustration, Zolina turned her head-and her eyes met mine.

For a second, the noise of the club faded. Her lips curved into a slow, knowing smirk, as if she could read every thought in my head. Then she turned away, leaving me simmering.

Vincenzo exhaled. "You're fucked." I didn't argue. Because for the first time in years, I wasn't sure I could lie to myself anymore. Zolina wasn't just some woman.

She was a storm. And I was already caught in her current.

_____

An hour went by while we stayed in our section, talking business and reminiscing about our rebellious teenage years. The club's bass thrummed through my veins, and my mind seemed to have put a pause on thoughts of a certain Italian woman.

At our section's entrance, I saw Evara approaching at a fast pace with worry all over her face. My muscles tightened and I stood up abruptly, stopping the conversation that was going on. Both Vincenzo and Ciro noticed Evara's presence and her facial expression making them stand up in haste.

My eyes never strayed away from her face. I wanted to know what the matter was and where the hell was Zolina.

"Where is she?" I asked roughly, my hands tightening into a fist. She shook her head side to side, and I drew in a sharp breath. " I've been calling her for the past fifteen minutes, but she isn't answering. She said she was going to the washroom and that she'll be back in five minutes, but she isn't and I don't know where she is."

I was already moving my feet before I could think. Vincenzo appeared next to me as I descended the stairs of the VIP section and watched me with that unnerving stillness of his, the one that meant he was calculating every possible outcome of whatever reckless thing I was about to do. "You're going after her," he stated, not a question.

"Someone has a death wish thinking they could mess with my woman," I said to him not caring at this moment. My goal was to make sure she was okay. "I'll call my men to scout the premises to see if they can find her," he gets on a call with the head of security at the club and describes Zolina's outfit and features to him.

Then, A flicker of movement was seen near a hallway that led to the ladies washrooms. A flash of gold from those damn boots of hers. Got you.

I moved without thinking, weaving through the crowd with single-minded focus. The hallway was dimly lit, and the noise from the club was muffled here. And there she was, throwing fists at the same man who tried touching up on her at the bar like she hadn't just set my entire nervous system on fire.

She didn't look up as I approached. She continued by kicking him where the sun doesn't shine."That will teach you not to force yourself on a woman, bastard!" She picked up her clutch and turned around, but stopped mid-step when she saw me.

I was impressed and mad at the same time. I stepped into her space, close enough that the scent of her perfume-something sweet and dangerous-wrapped around me. "You looked like you needed saving."That made her glance up, her dark eyes glinting with challenge. "From what? A mediocre man?"

"You had people worried about you, Lanconi" My voice dropped lower. "You had me ready to tear this place up looking for you." Her breath hitched, just slightly. But she held my gaze, unflinching. "What?" I braced a hand against the wall beside her head, caging her in. "It's time for you to go home, angel." I said, ignoring her question, not ready to admit what I just said.

A slow, challenging smile curled her lips. "No."

I moved a loose strand of her hair behind her ear using my index finger while I looked down at her. "It wasn't a request, angel," I say, pulling her away by her hand and leading her out of the washroom. "Wait, what about that guy?"

"Don't worry, I have it handled," I get angry again just thinking about what that imbecile wanted to do to her. I have to make him pay for even trying to touch her. I pull out my phone with my other hand and send a quick text to Vincenzo.

Me: Get the guy from the ladies washroom and take him to the warehouse.

It's been a while since I got my hands dirty.