A Drink with the Devil

I watch, dull eyed, as streams of confetti fall from the sky. The sound of a champagne bottle being open hits my ears, irritating me. Everyone cheers around me, throwing graduation hats in the air and prancing all around.

What are they so happy about? Everything just gets harder from here.

I'm part of the 2015 graduation class of Harvard University. I spent the last four years in this hell hole, and now I was about to spend the next 30 something years in a societal prison.

What is there to celebrate?

"Congrats, baby brother! You finally made it, how does it feel?" My brother, Darius, comes up and claps his hands on my shoulders, a proud smile covering his face.

I muster a convincing smile. "Feels great, " I say.

"We need to go out tonight and celebrate, before you enter the real world. Drinks on me!" he cries and shakes me a little. I smile tightly at him and scurry over to the car, where our driver is patiently waiting, door already open to the back. Darius and I climb in, and he continues to talk about my graduation, and how excited he is for me to finally get into the family business.

Ah, yes. The family business. The monarch of my very existence, what haunts my dreams at night, is the only thing that kept me sane in that school for four years straight, and what kept me from coming home during the holidays and summers.

My father is a well-known mafia boss, for the American Mafia. He's currently in Boston, with his own purchased manor and office, while he has another purchased house for Darius and I in New York, ready for me after I graduated from University.

Darius has been using it in the meantime, running business in New York as my father's second in command. I will be living with him to soon learn the ways of the mafia family, and have a taste of what I am expected to do, come the day my father passes down the torch to my brother, and I take over as his second in command. A lot of pressure and responsibility will fall with that title.

Even now, I'm not sure I'm ready for it.

What I am ready for, is to get drunk.

So incredibly drunk, I don't remember who I am. Darius is the perfect person to help me do that.

I agree to go out for the night, with the promise that I can invite my childhood, Angelo Russo. We have known each other since we were both 10 years old, our friendship being consistent over the last 12 years and counting. He has been with me through thick and thin; the death of my mother at the age of 13, my father distancing himself after that to focus on work, my own rebellious phase, and so much more.

Darius ended up picking a popular dance club, which is practically packed when we walk through the door, a couple friends from the 'family' tagging along. We grab an empty booth big enough for all 6 of us, 2 girls and 4 guys. Quite the sausage fest.

Being on the end facing the bar, Darius waves over a passing waitress and has her take everyone's orders. I take a simple jack and coke, wanting to take things easy at first, while everyone else orders a round of shots of vodka and tequila, hitting the hard stuff right away. Angelo himself just orders a beer.

An hour in, everyone is already wasted. Half the party left to the dancefloor, leaving Darius, Angelo and I alone in the booth. I'm still nursing my third drink, having lived with my brother for quite some time, I have learned to handle my whiskey, especially if it's mixed.

My eyes scan the room, looking for a place with the least number of people. By this time in the night, everyone has migrated towards the dancefloor, causing a haze of heat and sweat to emanate around them.

The only place that looked like it had some breathing room, is the bar. Few groups of people go up every now and then to chug down more drinks, before they rush back off to the dancefloor. I try and yell to Angelo and Darius that I'm heading to the bar, but neither of them seems able to hear me. I walk off anyway, talking a seat near the end of the counter, and wait for the bartender to finish up with a group of girls.

I know it's going to be awhile, with the way he is flirtatiously smiling at them, so I sip the rest of my drink slowly and turn my eyes back to the dancefloor, not looking at anything in particular. Though there are flashing neon lights everywhere, the room is still too dim to make anything out, besides bright, tacky outfits and overly done hair-dos.

The bartender finally ushered the girls away, and spotted me at the end. I order another jack and coke, and ask him to mix it well, with a little more jack than coke this time. When he slides me the drink, I sip it lightly and almost reel back from the smell.

Perfect.

I pass over a bill and then some. He mixed it well.

My eyes return to the dancefloor, as if being pulled by an unknown force.

That's when I spot her.

A dash of red blurs past the corner of my eye, making my eyes lock on a petite dark-haired girl, pushing her way through the thick crowd, towards the other end of the bar. The dash of red is the 3-inch heels covering her feet, giving her long legs even more length, if that were possible. It clearly is.

I can't help but follow her as she makes her way up to the bar, waving down the bartender, with another small brunette popping up behind her. I watch as they shout their orders over the music, and he nods and rushes down the bar to grab their drinks.

She follows the bartender, and notices someone sitting at the end. Her eyes land on me, and even with the distance between us, and the dim lighting of the room, I am hypnotised by them. I can faintly make out their bright blue color, nailing me to the spot, before they quickly look away. She smiles gently at the bartender as he hands her a glass. My heart beats faster at the sight of her smile, her gorgeous, pouty lips looking so soft.

I need to know who this girl is.

I'm not leaving this club until I do, even if it takes me a few more drinks to work up the courage, I have to find out who she is before she leaves. The feelings she has given me, just seeing her and being in her presence slightly for 5 minutes, it isn't something I'm giving up.

Even if I accomplish as much as getting her in bed, that is good enough for me. I haven't slept with any girl since before entering University. My father forbade any distractions, and made some pretty heft threats about it, making me deter from any obvious obstacles, like messy relationships and drama, mostly caused from sleeping around, playing with feelings, etc.

Now, I have no obstacles.

And I'm down to play.

I stare at the girl from the corner of my eye, sipping casually at my drink and busying myself with my phone, though all my attention is on her. I can see her staring, whispering to her friend, but her eyes never leaving me. I try hard not to smile.

I gulp the rest of my drink down and signal over the bartender, using the excuse to steal another glance at her. The lights hit her face just right, and I get a glimpse of familiarity.

Have I seen her before?

Her face now seems familiar, but I can't place my finger on it. I don't recognize her friend at all, which doesn't help jog my memory.

The bartender slides down my drink, and I stop him before he rushes off again.

"I want an order of whatever that girl there is drinking, and have it served to her please, " I say and slip over an extra few bills. He flashes me a wink and disappears under the bar and returns with a few bottles, quickly mixing them, before he rushes back down the bar.

I watch in anticipation as he hands her the drink, and points down to me, shouting in her ear. I can sense the smile that spreads across her lips without needing to see it. I see her thank the bartender, then settle her blue eyes on me. My heart leaps on contact, and my palms start to sweat.

It has been so long since I was in the game, and of course the first girl I see is as eye-catching as the girl sauntering towards me, a cat-like smile on her face. Up close, her eyes are an even more striking blue than I thought, causing my breath to hitch when she hits me with them.

Paired with her dark locks, there is no way I'm leaving this place without her.

"What do I owe the lovely drink offer?" she asks, gesturing to her untouched drink I sent.

"A name to a beautiful face, and hopefully a dance." I don't know where my new-found confidence comes from, but I don't complain.

A smile slips on her lips. "It certainly merits a dance, but a name might take another drink, " she winks at me, and tips her glass back, downing it in one gulp. I watch with so many emotions, I have to adjust in my seat slightly, to hide the front of my pants.

I can tell that she is already slightly tipsy, which means I'll have to play my cards right, and make sure this doesn't end in disaster. One of the main reasons I avoided clubs and bars so much in school, besides the distractions, was the drunk, overly sensitive and dramatic girls who flung themselves at you, then flipped on you when you aren't as interested as they want you to be.

I'm not hunting for a wife, especially not in a place like this. I just want to satisfy this long-standing hunger, and I just found the most delicious dessert.

She puts her glass on the table and holds her hand out to me, a sexy smile on her lips as she beckons me towards the dancefloor. I down my drink, feeling the alcohol hit me almost instantly, as if one more drink was all it took to break down my barrier of tolerance, built up from years of drinking with my brother and partying in high school as the popular kid, invited to everything.

It's her.

This girl seems to make me lose my control.

We squeeze our way through the sweaty, thick crowd until we find a comfortable enough spot among the sea of flailing body parts. I feel the alcohol creep to my brain, causing my senses to haze the instant my skin touches hers. Tingles spread from the tips of my fingers as I wrap my hands around the dips of her small waist, feeling every curve. I pull her against me just as a slow tempo song comes on, and the room settles a little.

"How did you know what I was drinking?" she asks, lifting her lips to my ears, her warm breath tickling my neck, sending shivers down my spine. I grip her waist to contain myself.

"I asked the bartender."

I feel her smile. "I see you two became well acquainted. No one here to keep you company?" she purrs, sending my hormones through the roof.

"That depends, " I whisper in her ear, feeling her shiver in return.

"On what?" she asks, her voice slightly airy.

I can feel her giving in to me slowly. I reach my hand around to the small of her back and press her flush against me, kissing the base of her neck. "On if you'll let me take you away with me."

She melts in my arms, making me hold half of her already light weight.

"O-okay, " she says and grasps my hand to lead us back through the crowd. I try and look over to the booth where I had left Angelo and Darius what now seems like hours ago, but I can't make it out through the crowd, and with how fast my legs are moving towards the door.

My dick has other interests, it seems.

I take out my phone and call for Frank, our family driver, to come around front and get me. He pulls up in seconds and I all but dive into the back seat, pulling the tantalizing beauty on my lap the moment the door is shut. I realize, I still don't know her name. Before I can ask, she dips her head down and touches her lips to mine.

My mind shatters and my senses are thrown out the window. All I feel is her luscious, warm lips and frisky hands, roaming all over my chest and shoulders, setting my skin on fire, even through my shirt.

Everything returns to me when she finally pulls away, the car going over a bit of a bump.

"I never got the chance to get you that other drink, so I can get your name, " I say, hearing how breathless I am before I feel it. I nuzzle my face in the crook of her neck, feeling her soft skin on my cheek and lips.

She gasps lightly. "Olivia, my n-name is Olivia."

I growl, surprising myself. Why does she have to have such a sexy name? It would be easier to control myself if she had an uglier sounding name.

We pull up in front of my brother's manor, my new home, within minutes. I don't give her the chance to admire the house before I rip her inside and fly up the stairs. I hear her giggling behind me. Usually, the sound of a girl giggling is like nails on a chalkboard to me.

Her laugh sounds like a melody.

I try and shake off the thoughts. I'm getting in over my head.

This is meant to be a one-night thing only. I can't think thoughts like that.

I manage to find the bedroom I was given through the winding hallways. I don't take the time myself to check it out and just find the bed, thankful that it's a large king size bed. The best kind for possible wild sex. I undo the buttons on my shirt hastily and rip it off, turning around to look at her.

I catch her ogling me, making my buddy just grow more, knowing she finds me just as attractive as I already find her, and she hasn't removed the tight, black bar dress yet. That is more than enough to leave the imagination wild.

I walk over to her slowly, and slip a finger under the strap of her dress, sliding it down her shoulder before moving over to the next one. I touch my lips to hers in a fiery kiss, grabbing hold of both straps and tearing the dress down and letting it drop to the floor. I step back and marvel at her, my pants no longer having the room to fit my growing buddy.

She is dressed in a lacy black lingerie set, her bra exposing her breasts through the sheer material. I feel a growl in the back of my throat, and I instantly lose control. I close the small distance between us and try my best not to rip my pants and her underwear off.

I don't hesitate to throw her on the bed, completely nude and exposed for me to ravish. I have never been so excited before; she makes me feel all sorts of emotions I never felt before.

She brings out the beast in me.

I try and go slow, but I have very little hold left on my control as I hover above her.

The moment I enter her, that small hold breaks and I can no longer hold back, experiencing the most mind-blowing sex I think I ever will. I know I won't last long, because of how amazing it feels, and how long it has been since I last had sex in general, but I want to hold on for as long as I can.

I never want this feeling to end.

All too soon though, I reach my climax and shout her name into her shoulder, muffling the loud sound. I collapse on top of her, pulling our sweaty bodies close, not wanting the night to end just yet, and morning to come.

When I know, she won't be here.

For some reason, my chest aches slightly at the thought. It's exactly what I want; for this to be a one-night thing. Especially with a girl like her. All I know is her name, but even I can see how innocent and clueless she is to the dangers that lurk the shadows of this city.

The secrets buried underground, hiding where she never ventures.

Come tomorrow, I will be a part of that world of shadows and secrets. A world that I could never bring such a beautiful flower as the girl wrapped in my arms to.

It would destroy her.

I don't know if I could live with myself, knowing I was the cause for it. I barely know this girl, yet I want to protect her so fiercely.

What is wrong with me? What is it about this girl, that has me so enticed?

I want the chance to figure it out, but I know if I do try and get closer to her after tonight, I will just be dragging her further into my dark world, without knowing if I want to risk that, for a girl I just met.

My mind is a haze as I look down at her, already sleeping soundly, her head resting in the crook of my arm and shoulder. I don't fight the urge to run my fingers through her soft, thick hair. I'm surprised at how much comfort I find in the simple gesture.

I'm not sure if it's good or not. For the moment, I don't care.

I just want to enjoy this blissful moment, before reality comes crashing down on me tomorrow.

I wake up and feel the hangover hit my head before I even open my eyes. I reach my hand up to grab my head, but my arm is constricted. I blink my eyes against the harsh morning light and feel something warm and squishy, slightly hairy and super soft on top of my arm and around my waist.

Once my eyes adjust to the light, I turn in my bed and see someone lying next to me.

I start to panic.

This isn't my room. Where the hell am I? Who the hell is this?

I try and calm myself down as I wiggle my arm free from the strange man and peek below the covers. I panic even more when I see we're both completely nude, but that panic quickly fades when I get a glimpse at how fit the guy is, and give myself a small pat on the back for at least hooking up with a good pick.

I don't remember anything from last night, other than dancing like a goof on the dancefloor with Natasha, then going to the bar to get more drinks. After that, everything is black. I look around the room and spot my clothes scattered around the floor, making it even harder to pick up and rush out.

I take the chance to peek over and get a look at the guy I slept with, so I at least know what he looks like to describe to Natasha. When I tell her about this, she is going to want details. I feel a ball of excitement build in my chest as I peer over and look at the peaceful face of–

Oh, my god. Greyson Mathers?!

I stare directly into the face of my Harvard crush. The man I had longed after the entire four years I spent there studying Art. I had one lecture with him, and the moment I saw him and looked into his gorgeous green eyes, I nearly died. Natasha had teased me constantly every time we spotted him on campus.

Whenever I saw him, I turned to jell-o right where I stood. I couldn't speak, couldn't walk.

And here I am, laying naked in what I can now assume is his bed. If someone told me that the day after graduation, I would be hooking up with Greyson Mathers, I would admit them into a mental hospital, because they're down right crazy. He never paid me or any girl in school any interest, never gave anyone the time of day, and turned down every invitation. No girl could figure out why, we all assumed he has a girlfriend somewhere else, at a different school or in a different city.

Now, I really hope those rumors aren't true, or I just made a huge mistake.

Regardless, I already made a huge mistake. Most people didn't know, but those who still read the newspaper, online or on paper, know exactly who the Mathers family is. They own quite a few successful businesses throughout the state of New York, but those are all cover-ups for their real business.

The American Mafia.

Patrick Mathers is a mafia boss, and he has two sons; Darius and Greyson Mathers. Darius is said to be Patrick's second in command, making him almost as equally a powerful and dangerous man, and the next in line to take over for Patrick, if and when he passes down the torch, or dies.

I can only assume what that makes Greyson.

I need to get out of here.

Not hesitating any longer, I fly out of bed as quietly as possible and try to gather my scattered clothes around the room. I managed to find my underwear, dress and one shoe, but can't seem to locate my last shoe and last piece of clothing. I look under the bed, grabbing the edge to stable myself, and hear Greyson stir above me. I instantly tense and look to make sure he is still asleep.

Once he stops moving, I say screw the shoe and rush out of the room, making sure I at least have my phone and wallet. I throw my clothes on as I run down the abandoned halls, praying that no one comes running around the corner as I'm still partially nude, and try to find my way to the front.

I don't even remember how I got to this house, let alone how I managed to get through the winding, narrow halls. Just as I'm convinced I'm lost, a tall elderly man walks out of a random door down the hall a little and notices me standing there, disheveled hair and bare foot, probably looking lost and scared in the middle of the empty hall.

He frowns and walks towards me, a smile quickly appearing when he seems to make out my face.

"Good morning, Miss. Is there something I can help you with?" he asks, his tone cheerful.

"Uh, I'm actually just trying to find the front door..." I realize how stupid that sounds once it's out of my mouth, but the man continues to beam at me.

"Leaving so soon? Is Master Greyson awake as well?" Master Greyson? What year are we in? Did I go back in time?

"No, he isn't, but we should maybe keep it that way. You can just point me towards the front door and I'll just slip out, " I say and try to smile convincingly. The man frowns again, but turns and starts to walk down the hall. I have no other option but to follow him, and hope he is leading me towards the front door, and not just walking away from me.

After a few more twisting hallways, we're in front of a staircase that leads down to the front foyer. I cheer silently when I see the front door, and turn to thank the man, but stop when I see he is putting on a coat and grabbing a set of car keys by the front.

"I will drive you home, I know Master Greyson will be pleased to know you made it there safe, " he says.

"Oh, that isn't necessary, I can just call a cab or something."

He waves his hand before I can finish arguing. "Nonsense, it's my job, " he says and smiles, before walking out the door, leaving no room for argument. I awkwardly follow behind him towards a car already parked and waiting at the bottom of the stairs. He holds the back door open for me with a kind smile, melting my nerves a little.

I give him my address and he seems to know exactly where to go from there. Something tells me he has been driving around Manhattan for quite some time. When we venture further into New Jersey, he starts to get a little confused.

Relief washes over me when the familiar apartment building comes into view. Frank pulls up to the curb and turns to me with a smile on his face.

"Here we are Miss. Is there anything else I can help you with?"

"N-no, that's fine, you've already done enough. Thank you again, " I say and bow my head, before scurrying out the door. He gives me a small wave before he pulls away from the curb and disappears. I rush inside, knowing Natasha is waiting for me with a string of questions.

I tried to turn my phone on, but it's apparently dead. I know there is probably a thousand messages and voicemails left by her, when she finally sobered up and realized that I didn't come home with her last night.

As expected, as soon as I open the door, she is there waiting for me, her eyes narrowed and hands on her hips.

"Where the hell have you been, and why is your phone off? I have been calling you all morning, praying you weren't dead in some dumpster, " she cries, flailing her arms about.

"I'm sorry, it was a crazy night, I barely remember any of it. My phone is also dead, and I didn't have a charger, " I say and trudge past her to my bedroom. I hear her following behind me, and can feel her piercing eyes examining me.

"You look like you got laid, " she says suddenly.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" I say, rolling my eyes and turning my face so my hair covers my blushing face.

"I'm just being honest, you look like you have been thoroughly fucked. Am I wrong?" she asks and crosses her arm, quirking an eyebrow.

"No, you aren't wrong. But that isn't even the worst part."

"Wait, worst part? Was he terrible in bed?" she asks and runs over to sit on my bed, waiting to hear all the juicy details. "Where are your shoes, by the way?" she adds, pointing to my slightly dirty bare feet.

"It's a long story, " I say.

"We have all day, neither of us works today, remember?" she says and winks, urging me to continue. She obviously remembers just as little as I do, so I start from the last place I remember; going to the bar.

I tell her about the strange man who bought me a drink, and it starts to jog her memory.

"He was really good looking, from what I remember seeing, " she says.

"You don't even know the half of it, " I mutter, earning a confused and slightly greedy look from her.

"What's the big reveal" she says and leans closer.

I take a deep breath, making her wait even longer for shits and giggles.

"The guy at the bar was Greyson Mathers, from Harvard."

Natasha gasps and leans back, covering her mouth slightly. It seems like it takes a moment for her to completely process everything.

"You honestly mean, the guy whose father is a mafia boss? Are you freaking kidding me? Girl, you hit the jackpot!"

I look at her incredulously. "What are you talking about?"

She rolls her eyes. "Are you serious? His father is a mafia boss, that means the guy is probably loaded, you won't ever have to worry about money troubles again. Isn't that what your main goal is?" she says and gives me a meaningful look.

She has a point.

My main goal, even after school, was to get a good paying, stable job, so I can help give my mother the best healthcare there is to offer.

Just over 5 years ago, my mother was diagnosed with lung cancer. She had been a heavy smoker before, but has obviously since quit. The medical bills and medicine fees are more than she and I can both handle. We have to keep going to run down walk-in clinics, hoping to have enough in our pockets to get what she needs to go another few months without pain.

But since I was in school for the last four years, something she pushed me to do because it was what I always wanted, and what she always wanted for me. But I know during that time, it put a big hole in her bank account, more than she leads me to believe.

Natasha and I moved in together, because my mother was moved into a care home, for those who are sick and can't afford to live on their own. We can't even afford to live in a two-bedroom apartment anymore. I offered to buy a pull-out couch and sleep in the living room and she take the one bedroom, but she kept refusing, and offered to stay in the care home for a modest price.

Even I can see, however, that she is miserable there. She doesn't have the freedom of living on her own. She has to have a nurse bring her outside, even when she is capable of doing it herself. She needs to be supervised at all times, which in her state is understandable, but when it was her and I together, she had a lot more freedom than she does.

Natasha drops the conversation to let me shower and dress into clean clothes. I can't seem to get Greyson off my mind, though. Once I'm done and join Natasha in the living room, she suggests we watch a chick flick on Netflix to take my mind off the night, but even Mean Girls don't distract me enough.

I fall asleep dreaming of stunning green eyes.

I wake up, welcoming the sun that hits my face instantly, feeling like I just slept for 10 years. I stretch out on the bed, and freeze when I feel there is nothing beside me. My eyes flash open and look towards the empty side of the bed.

Where the girl of my dreams was laying.

I collapse back against my pillows and look at my phone, groaning when I see it's almost 5 in the evening. I slept the entire day away, and the girl from last night is probably long gone.

Olivia.

A voice whispers in the back of my head, and the memories of last night come flooding back. There was a lot I remembered, like the mind-blowing sex we had, and the heated moment at the club just before we left, but I didn't remember much in between.

Now, I remember her practically moaning out her name in the car, when I was barely holding on to my self-control.

The blare from my phone shakes me out of my daydreams, and I turn it over to see my father is calling. Just what I need right now.

"Hello son, congratulations on your graduation, I am very proud of you, " he says in his usual gruff, emotionless tone. "I'm not calling to rush you into any business; enjoy your victory, celebrate for a little while, then we'll talk."

"Why are you calling then, " I ask in as a polite tone as I can manage, silently thanking him that he isn't pushing me to start entering the family business so soon after graduation. I wasn't even sure if it was what I want, and if so, how I'm going to tell my father that.

"There is another matter I want to discuss with you, where are you right now?"

"I'm at Darius's place, Frank has already gone to fetch my things I'm assuming and have them transported here, " I say.

The line is quiet for a few minutes. "I'm on my way, " he says, before it goes dead.

Why is this all happening at once?

I was hoping to not have to see my father for at least a few days, and have a bit of silence to myself. I guess not. I quickly get out of bed and scurry around the room, still thinking about the goddess that had occupied my bed last night, and how much I wish I got the chance to wake up to her, and maybe get a second round before I had to kick her out.

The moment I thought about having to kick her out, to avoid my very intimidating father seeing her, made the idea of her being around in the morning almost terrifying. I wouldn't want something to happen, and expose her to even the slightest horrors that follow my father, and our family, thanks to the Mafia.

I remember looking into her breathtaking blue eyes, and seeing the wonder and innocence behind them. There is no way I could ever take that away.

The path I will soon walk, is one that will destroy all of that. If I ever do manage to settle with someone, it will most likely have to be someone already exposed to the gang life, or have lived a very harsh life.

I don't need to think of the chances of me finding a decent girl like that, who gives me the same feelings Olivia did last night. I don't know if any girl could ever make me feel like that again, it was the first time I have experienced anything close to how I felt with her from the moment I saw her at the bar.

Just as I'm about to exit, I cross the room and something catches my eye from under the bed. My curiosity peeked, I reach under and pull out a bright red heel, recognizing it instantly as the ones Olivia was wearing.

She left with only one shoe? How the hell did she get home?

I take the heel and shove it into my old messenger bag used for school and dash out the door in search of Frank, hoping he is still here. I catch him in his usual spot at the front door, a kind smile planted permanently on his face, even though no one is around.

"Ah, Master Greyson, nice to see you finally awake, " he says and chuckles.

"Thanks Frank, I actually have a question for you. Did you see the girl I came home with last night? She left I'm assuming earlier this morning, but I just discovered she left behind a shoe, " I say and scratch the side of my head, hoping he doesn't bring up the embarrassing time he probably spent in the car with us.

He hums lightly and nods his head. "Indeed I did, I ran into her leaving your room this morning, and I did find it odd that she was bare-foot, only holding one shoe it seemed. I drove her to her house, though she seemed quite stubborn about it, and that was the last I saw of her."

My heart sunk slightly at his final words. She is really gone. All I got was her name, and a shoe. I never managed to even grab her number.

"Do you remember where you took her?" I ask.

He frowns and looks as if he is thinking about it.

"I remember it was somewhere in New Jersey, a little distance away from here, but I don't remember the exact address she gave me. I used the GPS for the entire way, and only really knew how to get out of Manhattan."

An idea popped into my head. "You used the cars GPS?" I ask and Frank nods. Before he can respond, I run out to the car.

Unfortunately, my father's car pulls up the driveway as soon as I make my way down the steps and towards the garage. I stop and quickly pretend I have come out to greet him, slapping on a fake smile as the car pulls up to the front and my fathers large frame and gets out.

"Greyson, great to see you, son, " he says and grasps my hand firmly, clapping me on the back with his other hand. I lead him into the house where Frank is already there, waiting to take his jacket and hat to hang. I whisper to him to have one of the maids fetch a bottle of scotch and two glasses, and bring it to the living room for us before he leaves to hang the jackets.

"So, what is it you wanted to speak about?" I ask my father once we enter the living room, and he makes himself comfortable on one of the leather sofas. One of the maids scurries into the room with a platter in her hands, an unopened bottle of scotch and two glasses sitting on top.

I can tell she is shaking by the way the platter clatters slightly. I take it from her gently and smile down at her, trying to ease her nerves a little. She offers a small smile back, before she rushes back out the door. I guess there is no calming anyone's nerves in the presence of my father.

Hopefully it was just him, and not me as well.

It is one of the things I am worried about the most when I start working with my father and older brother. That my name will carry a bad reputation, and I will be feared rather than liked. People won't actually like me for who I am.

Except Olivia. She had no idea who I was last night, yet she still let me take her home, invite her into my shadows for one night.

I offer my father a glass of scotch, trying to banish the thoughts.

"I wanted to speak to you about your brother, actually, " he starts off, pausing to gauge my reaction. "Seeing you graduate University, with honors none the less, making something of your life. It has inspired me to push your brother to do the same."

"Father, Darius is already your second in command, he carries a lot of responsibilities for you, and he is very mature about them as far as I'm concerned, " I say, always defending my brother, even towards my father.

"Yes, of course, he has been great, but he isn't as mature as you think. I'm always having to cover up his drunken mishaps and the smear tabloids that threaten to come out every time he steps out to a club or bar, I'm getting tired. I want him to settle down, maybe find a good woman to keep him in line, make sure he knows his priorities and keeps our name out of the gossip columns."

My father has a point; Darius is known for his drinking. He is consistently out at clubs and bars, drinking his life away, hooking up with random girls and causing havoc everywhere he walks. My father is always the one to try and cover it up, clean his mess for him while he sleeps off the hangover, and doesn't have to deal with the consequences.

"How do you propose that happens? Darius isn't showing any interest in wanting to settle down, " I say and swirl around my drink, wanting this conversation to be over as quickly as possible, so I can finally check the GPS in the car. There is a chance I can see her again, and I actually have an excuse.

I don't have to be female to know how expensive female clothing is.

"Well, I was hoping you could persuade him into considering the idea. He listens to you, he wants you to respect him as an older brother and I know you do, so you'll do this for me. You care for your brother as I do, and I know you don't want to see him go down a bad path either."

I want to ask what he meant exactly by 'bad path'. Is being an alcoholic any worse than being a mafia member? If he killed someone while he was drunk, at least he could say he wasn't right in the mind.

As a mafia member, he kills people completely sober, with full intent. I'm not sure which one I could sleep at night with.

"You think he would listen to me about relationships? I'm his baby brother, he won't want to hear what I have to say about love, if anything he would think he should be telling me about that stuff, " I say.

My father scoffs. "Nonsense, it would be a wake-up call for him, having his younger brother talk to him about commitment and responsibilities. He will see it as you're maturing faster than him, and it will make him reflect on himself."

He is delusional. He doesn't know Darius at all, and has never taken the time to get to know either of us, in fact. I will admit, my father has always given me more freedom than he has Darius. In high school, I was able to go out with friends, drink and party to my heart's content, and I was able to choose the school I wanted to attend for University.

Darius was never allowed to do any of those things. He was always being prepped to become my father's second in command when he reached the age of 18, and was initiated into the gang. Since then, he has followed in my father's shadow, doing everything he says and going everywhere he goes.

The only freedom he has is going out and getting drunk on his nights off. It's his only way to cope. He doesn't mean to cause harm to the family or my father, he doesn't know how to deal with the stress and depression. He has confided in me many times, but is too afraid to confront father.

I don't blame him.

"I'll talk to him, see what I can do, but I'm not making any promises, " I say and down the rest of my drink, trying to signal I am done with the conversation. My father smiles and does the same, putting his drink down and standing to give me a quick hug.

"Thank you son, I knew I could count on you, " he says and pats my back. "Now, I'll be in Boston for the next little while, if you need to get a hold of me. I will be in contact with you again before I leave, and we will discuss your next step into the family business."

I give him a curt nod and tight smile and send him off, finally letting out a breath when the front door closes. Frank gives me a concerned look from the corner of the room, but I wave him off and listen through the door for the sound of my father's car taking off.

When I can no longer hear it, I open the door and run off towards the garage, going straight towards the chauffeur car Frank always uses. I unlock the key safe at the front and grab the car keys, turning it on and accessing the GPS system. I bring up the last address entered and write it down in my phone, feeling a tight ball of excitement build in my chest at the thought of seeing her again.

I hate and love the sappy feeling at the same time. I have always made fun of the guys who said crappy stuff like that, but now that I'm feeling it first hand, I understand what they mean now.

After writing down the address, I rush back inside to call Angelo, and tell him we have a mission.

***

"So, you want to show up at this girl's house, and do what exactly?" Angelo asks as we drive to the address shown in the GPS. He has been questioning my motives since the moment I called him almost a week ago, telling him my plan.

It took me so long to work up the courage to go through with it, and his taunting and questioning wasn't helping.

"I want to use the excuse of her leaving her shoe behind, to see her again. Is that what you want to hear?" I say and let out a frustrated breath, knowing my ego just took a hit.

Angelo lets out a soft laugh. "Yes, that's exactly what I wanted to hear. You understand how pathetic you sound, right?"

"Of course, I do, but it doesn't matter. I'm telling you, this girl is worth it. She was unlike any girl I've been with, and you know how many girls I've managed to get in bed, I don't need to remind you."

He lifts his hands up in surrender. "No, I don't need a reminder of the skanks you slept with, thank you. I happen to respect women a little more than you Mathers brothers."

I roll my eyes at him and decide not to respond and feed his own ego. My excitement quickly turns into nerves when we pull up to the apartment building and stop out front. I realize then, I don't even know what apartment she lives in, all I have is the address for the building.

I walk up to the board at the front, listing all the names of the people who live there and pray it has her name, and not possibly a roommate or family members name, or a last name. My eyes scan the list and stop when her name sticks out.

D. Olivia / S. Natasha.

There are two names. The girl from the club, the one standing with Olivia. It had to be her, or at least I hope it is. It will be easier explaining who I am.

I punch in the numbers and wait for the buzzer to pick up.

"Hello?" A female voice a don't recognize answers.

"Uh, hi, I'm looking for Olivia?"

"Who is this?" She asks in a slightly guarded tone.

Shit. I don't want to tell her my name, just in case she recognizes my last name and associates it with Darius.

"She and I met at the club a few nights ago, she left something behind, I'm just trying to return it, " I say and silently pray that she believes it.

There is a bit of static on the other end, then silence.

Angelo and I look at each other in anticipation, and nearly jump when the door buzzes, signaling it's unlocked. I reach for the handle and yank the door open, glancing at her apartment number one more time before racing to the elevator.

I can feel Angelo staring at the back of my head, analyzing me like he does to everyone. Always watching. I try and shrug him off, hating the small space we're in. I dart out when the doors finally open, trying to remember her apartment number exactly. I stop and take a deep breath outside the door.

Before I can reach up and knock, Angelo sticks his hand out and does it for me. I shoot him a glare, but quickly wipe it off when the door opens alomost instantly, as if she was waiting on the other side.

A girl with light brown hair and equally light brown eyes answers, her head barely meeting my chin. She looks up at me with wide, knowing eyes, telling me she knows exactly who I am.

For shit sake.

I can't go anywhere without someone knowing who I am, and therefore being terrified of me. Wait – if she knows who I am, does that mean Olivia does as well? A strike of fear hits my chest. She hadn't said anything when we met, maybe she was too drunk to know or say something.

"Hey, so you're the guy, " she says slowly.

"Yeah, I guess so. Is Olivia here?" I ask, trying to look over her shoulder, which with her small posture, it isn't hard, but there is nothing but a small, narrow hallway behind her.

"Uh, yeah, she's just getting out of the shower. Come on in, " she says and opens the door more. Angelo and I come in and she leads us towards an opening on the right side of the hallway, leading into a decent looking living room.

There is a large sectional couch pushed into the far-left corner of the room, with a flat screen TV on the wall opposite of it, and a small coffee table in the middle with a few magazines and dishes scattered on it. Angelo and I take a hesitant seat on the couch and awkwardly look around the room.

"I'm Natasha, by the way, " she says, waving slightly and offering a tense smile. I can tell she is as awkward as we are.

"This is Angelo, and I'm Greyson, " I say, not bothering to hide my name anymore, but still not saying my last name out loud.

She nods and purses her lips. "I know who you are, we went to University together."

That fact takes a moment for me to process. I had gone to school with her? Had she gone to the same school as Olivia? There was no way, I would have noticed someone like her wandering the halls, no matter how big the school was, I had been there for four years and gone through every hallway.

"Did Olivia also attend the same school?" I ask quietly. Natasha nods her head slowly, a ghost of a smile on her lips. How in the world had I never saw her? I realize now just how much I kept my head down, or how little she travelled around the school.

It suddenly clicks, why she looked so familiar to me at the bar. She was in one of my lectures, but I was so focused on school and trying to make my father proud, that thinking back to it, everything is just a blur.

I hear a door open down the hall and light footsteps approach the living room. My heartbeat skyrockets in my chest, I'm almost afraid Angelo can hear it next to me.

"Natasha, was someone at the door?" Olivia calls out, and I feel my palms start to sweat at the sound of her voice.

"Yes, and you better have clothes on, " Natasha says, not taking her eyes off Angelo and I. I feel him shuffle uncomfortably next to me, causing me to smirk.

"What, why?" she asks, just as she rounds the corner. Our eyes connect, and she instantly drops the hairbrush she is holding. Everything in the room stands still, blurring around my vision, until all I see is her.

She looks incredibly sexy, with her hair dripping wet from a fresh shower, the smell of her strawberry scented shampoo filling the air lightly, just enough to drive me insane.

"Angelo, would you like something to drink?" Natasha breaks the silence, getting the hint that they should leave the room. Angelo nods and quickly follows her out of the room. Olivia doesn't see the mischievous smile Natasha gives her; her eyes haven't left mine.

"W-what are you doing here?" she asks, and I can tell she is slightly frightened. That tears at my heart, even though I half expected it. I can imagine the thoughts that are going through her head, wondering how I got her address, when all I knew was her name.

"You left something at my house, and rushed off before I could get your address to give it back. It looks expensive, " I say and hand her the red heel. She hesitantly reaches for it and gestures back to the couch.

I take a seat a bit away from her, not wanting to make her anymore uncomfortable than I probably have. I knew coming here was a risk and possible mistake, but I'm already here. There is no going back.

"How did you find me?" she asks quietly, unable to meet my eyes now.

"I didn't stalk you, if that's what you're wondering. You gave your address to my driver, Frank, " I say, leaving out the part where I did track the GPS system to get her address, knowing he wouldn't remember it.

Her lips form into a small oh, and she bites her lower lip, looking a little embarrassed. I hope that is enough to also banish any other bad thoughts she has about me.

If she knows who I really am.

Not many people my age read the newspaper anymore, even online. But a lot of students in my class did, given the subjects we were studying, it was almost mandatory. I was known throughout my class, but not throughout the school.

I can't remember what lecture I had with Olivia, but regardless there is a slight chance, she knows about my involvement with the Mafia.

***

I am freaking out. Greyson Mathers is sitting in my living room. He is actually here. He went out of his way to find me, to return my missing shoe. Is that really the only reason he came here?

"I wanted to see you again, " he blurts out, looking as shocked as I feel. I stare at him with wide eyes, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks.

I play with a strand of my hair. "O-oh, r-really?" I curse myself for stuttering and sounding like a fool, but my head is fuzzy from his mere presence, let alone him admitting he wanted to see me again. Me!

"Is that so hard to believe?" he asks, the shock gone, replaced with a cocky smile.

"You know we went to the same school, right?" I say, instantly regretting my tone afterwards when he frowns softly.

"Yes, your friend Natasha reminded me. I remember seeing you in one of my lectures, but unfortunately I was too distracted by not the pressures of my course and pride of my parents, I never took notice, " he says, and I hear a touch of regret in his voice.

Does he really regret not noticing me earlier?

My heart stutters at the thought.

"I'm glad I noticed you the other night, or I might have missed a once in a life time, " he whispers, making me notice how close he has moved. My breath hitches at the closeness, and I swear he can hear my heart beating.

His lips are inches away from mine, his warm breath fanning my face, making me weak in the knees. Thank god I'm already sitting down.

I want him to kiss me so bad, I feel the urge in the pit of my stomach, clenching tighter as he draws closer. Just as I close my eyes, they flash open when the shrill sound of a ringtone blares through the room.

I hear Greyson growl slightly and pull back, reaching for his ringing phone. His eyes go dark when he sees the name, and excuses himself out the door. I sit on the couch, still in a daze from almost kissing Greyson Mathers, though there is a large chance I did a lot of that the other night.

At least this time I would remember, and enjoy it.

He returns minutes later, looking more gloomy than he did before.

"I have to leave, I'm sorry, " he says and picks up his jacket. For some reason, I don't want him to go just yet. I mean, he was just about to kiss me! Can't we at least finish that before he goes? That would be great.

"That doesn't stop me from wanting to see you again, " he says and clears the room, standing inches away from me again. He lifts his hand and trails his fingers down my cheek lightly, sending shivers up my spine.

Before I have time to react, he presses his lips to mine in a heated kiss, all but devouring my lips with hunger. I respond instantly, my body moving on its own, my fingers clenching his shirt like it's a lifeline.

He pulls away too soon, and calls to Angelo, who is at his side in seconds. He turns when he reaches the door and hands me his phone.

"Put your number in, " he says and I take the phone and quickly enter my name and number as a contact, my fingers trembling. I hand him back the phone, our finger tips grazing each other, making my heart practically fly out of my chest.

He sends me a quick wink before he disappears on the door, and it's enough to make me melt to the floor, Natasha watching me with rolling eyes.

"So, how did that go?" she asks.

I glare at her. "As if you weren't eavesdropping."

She holds her hands up in defense. "Honestly, girl, I was way too distracted by the eyes on that boy. Damn, he is delicious."

Now it's my turn to roll my eyes at her.

"Anyway, what happened?" she asks again.

"Nothing really, he gave me back my shoe, then he got a phone call and came back and said he had to go...and then we might have kissed, " I add, a little quieter.

Natasha's eyes widen immediately and a grin stretches across her face.

"Oh, how was it? I want details."

I roll my eyes again. She is such a drama queen.