Falling For My Ex's Mafia Dad

Aria's Pov

"The moment he put the ring on my hand, I became the happiest woman on earth."

I stared at the sparkling diamond on my finger, barely able to breathe. The applause echoed in the grand hall of the De Luca mansion, but all I could focus on was Marco, his smile, his strong hands, his warmth.

This was it. My dream come true.

He leaned down slightly and whispered, "You look beautiful Aria, so beautiful."

I blushed. "Thank you. Everything is perfect, Marco... but I haven't even met your father before, that's strange. He approved of our engagement without even meeting me. And now I can't see him here either. Why isn't your father here?"

His smile faltered just a bit. "He's not a fan of social interactions. Doesn't like crowds."

"Oh..." I tried to hide my disappointment.

"But," Marco added, squeezing my hand, "he was the one who arranged all of this. The venue, the food... He wanted it to be special for you."

That made my heart flutter again. Maybe Damian De Luca wasn't as scary as people said.

Before I could say more, Marco's phone buzzed in his pocket. He checked it, and his expression shifted.

"Everything okay?" I asked.

"Yeah. Just business. I'll just attend to it quickly. I'll be back soon, okay?" He kissed my cheek and walked away.

I watched him go, wondering what could be so urgent tonight.

"Girl, you look like a Disney princess."

I turned and smiled when I saw Fiona walking toward me. She was dressed in a red silk dress, her heels clicking against the marble floor. "You made it," I said.

"Of course I did. There was free champagne and a mafia prince getting engaged to my best friend. Like hell I was missing this."

I laughed, finally feeling a bit more relaxed. Fiona always knew how to make things feel light.

We stood by the dessert table, sipping champagne, when I looked around and realized Marco still hadn't come back.

"Have you seen Marco?" I asked.

Fiona shook her head. "Maybe he's on a business call? You know how mafia stuff is."

I nodded slowly. "Yeah, maybe..."

But something didn't sit right in my chest. A weird ache started to grow.

"You know what, I'm just gonna check," I said, placing my glass down.

Fiona raised an eyebrow. "You sure? Don't go full psycho-fiancée on him."

I chuckled weakly. "It's nothing like that, Just checking."

The De Luca mansion was huge, with too many hallways and closed doors. I walked past a few rooms, listening for voices, trying not to overthink it.

And then... I heard something.

A soft moan.

I froze.

It was from a woman.

The sound came from behind a door at the end of the hallway. It wasn't loud, but I knew what I was hearing.

No. It couldn't be.

I swallowed hard and walked closer, my heels clicking against the marble now sounding like thunder in my ears.

The door wasn't fully shut.

I pushed it open just a little.

And my heart shattered.

There he was.

Marco.

His lips crashed into another woman's, her dress was pulled halfway down, her hands tangled in his hair. They were kissing like they hadn't seen each other in years.

I couldn't breathe.

He looked up. Our eyes met.

His face went pale.

"Aria-"

I turned and ran.

"Aria" Marco said as he was about to run after me. But then Elena stopped him.

"Don't leave me Marco, I'm horny already"

Elena pulls marco back into the room and closes the door. They resume kissing again.

Tears blurred my vision as I stumbled through the hallway. The laughter and music from the engagement party felt like cruel background noise. My chest burned, my lungs screamed, but I didn't stop.

"Aria!"

I heard Fiona's voice as I burst through the front doors.

She came after me, her heels clicking fast. "What happened? What's wrong?"

I collapsed against the nearest pillar, sobbing. "He... he was kissing someone else."

Her face went cold. "What?"

I nodded, unable to form words. "He was with another woman. In one of the rooms. They were..."

"Motherf....." Fiona caught herself. "That cheating bastard. Are you sure it was him?"

"I saw him. He saw me."

Fiona wrapped her arms around me. "You don't deserve this. He doesn't deserve you."

I wanted to scream, cry, punch something, but all I could do was fall apart in her arms.

"Let's go," she said firmly. "You are not staying another second in this cursed place."

At my apartment, everything felt numb. Fiona made tea while I curled up on the couch, staring at the wall like it could explain why this happened.

"You should've seen your face when he proposed," Fiona muttered. "He doesn't deserve that kind of love."

I stayed quiet.

"Let's go out," she said suddenly.

"What?"

"A club. Loud music, drinks, hot men. Let's go."

"I don't want to," I whispered.

"You need to. You're not gonna cry all night over some loser."

I shook my head. "I can't."

She walked over and grabbed my hands. "Yes, you can. You're Aria Sinclair. You're strong. Let's go be hot and reckless."

A part of me didn't want to give in, but another part... the hurt, broken part... wanted to forget.

I stood up slowly.

Fiona grinned. "That's my girl. Go get dressed."

I walked to my room, and just before I opened my closet, my eyes landed on the engagement ring.

The glittering diamond mocked me.

I slid it off my finger, held it in my palm for a second... and then threw it across the room.

It hit the floor with a soft clink.

Just like that, my fairytale ended.

"I thought I was walking into forever... but I had no idea it would all burn down in a single night."

Aria's POV

The pulsing beat of the music hit Aria in the chest the moment she stepped into the club. It was exactly as Fiona had described, maybe even more intense. Dim, sultry lighting washed everything in shades of crimson and violet. Bodies moved rhythmically on the dancefloor, some pressed too close, almost indecent. Laughter echoed, glasses clinked, and the smell of perfume, alcohol, and sweat created a heady mix that clung to the air.

"Okay, wow," Aria muttered, eyes scanning the club.

"I told you," Fiona grinned. "This place is for forgetting."

They slid into a corner booth near the bar. A waitress with fishnet stockings and a leather skirt came over, and Fiona ordered them both cocktails. Aria didn't wait, she took the glass as soon as it hit the table and downed it in one go.

"Aria!" Fiona hissed. "Slow down."

"Don't start," Aria said, waving for another drink. "I need to erase Marco from my system."

"Getting blackout drunk won't fix betrayal."

"Maybe not. But it sure as hell numbs it."

Fiona sighed, watching as Aria tossed back another drink. She had never seen her like this. Aria was usually calm, soft-spoken, the one who thought things through. But tonight? Heartbroken. Reckless. Dangerous.

Aria tilted her head back, gulping down another shot. And that's when she saw him.

Her breath caught.

He was upstairs, in the VIP section, leaning back on a leather couch. The strobe lights barely touched him, but even in the shadows, he stood out like midnight in a room full of candles. Tall. Broad shoulders. A black shirt hugged his chest, sleeves rolled just enough to show powerful forearms. His dark trousers clung perfectly to lean, strong legs. One hand held a glass of whiskey, the other rested on his knee, fingers adorned with a simple, silver ring.

He didn't smile. Didn't speak.

He simply watched.

His eyes, sharp and unreadable, scanned the dance floor below, until they met hers.

Time paused.

His stare was like a dagger sliding beneath skin. Cold. Penetrating. Calculated. Aria's chest tightened, her lips parting slightly. But before she could process the jolt running through her, he looked away, as if her existence meant nothing.

That burned more than Marco's betrayal.

"I want to meet him," Aria said suddenly.

Fiona blinked. "Who?"

She pointed, heart still racing. "Upstairs. Black shirt. Whiskey. God-like presence."

Fiona followed her gaze, and her face paled. "No. Aria, no. You don't even know who he is."

"I don't care. I want him."

"You're drunk."

"Exactly." Aria stood, grabbing her clutch. "Perfect time to be bold."

"Aria-"

"Five minutes," she said, already walking.

He had seen her the moment she walked in, she was hard to miss.

Petite but fierce. Wavy brown hair. Those wide eyes, glassy with alcohol, but still holding something stubborn... raw. And then she looked up, caught his stare, and didn't look away.

Interesting.

Most people flinched when Damian De Luca looked at them.

He hadn't planned on staying long tonight. These places bored him. Loud music. Desperate bodies. Empty conversations. But something about that girl's defiant eyes made him stay in his seat.

And now, she was coming up.

"Private section," his guards told her, arms crossed like statues.

"I want to see him," she said without flinching.

Bold little thing.

"Let her in," Damian said, voice cold and low.

The guards stepped aside. She walked in with a sway that screamed she was drunk, but her eyes? They burned with determination.

She stopped a few feet from him, taking him in.

"You must really be bold to come up here," he said, tilting his glass toward her.

"When I see what I want, I go for it."

Damian smirked, though it was more mockery than amusement.

"And what exactly is it that you want?"

"You."

The answer came without hesitation.

He stood, walking slowly toward her, placing his glass on the table beside him. His height towered over her. He didn't touch her, didn't need to. His presence alone was enough to make her tense.

He leaned down, voice almost a whisper. "I'm not sure you know what you're talking about."

"I do," she replied.

"You look fragile. I could break you in a second."

"I'm not made of glass."

His smirk faded."

"You don't know who I am, young lady. I'm not someone you chase in a drunken haze."

"Then who are you?" she asked.

He didn't answer.

Instead, he turned away, brushing past her.

"You're running," she said quietly.

He paused mid-step.

"From what?" he asked, not turning back.

"From me. From whatever you felt when our eyes met."

Damian turned slowly, eyes narrowed. "You're drunk."

"Not enough to forget what I saw tonight."

He remained silent.

"I walked in on my fiancé kissing another woman on my engagement day. Her voice cracked but she steadied it. "So yeah. I might be reckless right now. But I'd rather chase danger than sit in that booth crying over him."

"You think I'm danger?" he asked, voice low, dark.

"I know you are."

He stared at her for a long moment.

Then he walked past her again. This time, he didn't stop.

She turned to watch him disappear down the stairs. Women reached for him. No response. They tried to flirt with him. He didn't blink. Untouchable.

Aria looked toward the empty space he had left

"No. I've seen what I want now."

And I'll get him."

I didn't even think twice, I followed. The music from the club grew fainter with each step. The hallway was dim, shadows flickering across the walls from the soft golden lights. Damian's broad back moved with confidence, his shoulders like sculpted stone beneath the fabric of his black shirt.

He turned left and disappeared through a door. I paused for a second, my heart hammering in my chest. Then I saw it, Restroom. He was about to close the door when he noticed me standing right there.

"You again? Following me now, huh?" Damian said, his voice a deep rumble that made my stomach twist.

Before I could answer, footsteps echoed behind me. Damian grabbed my hand and yanked me inside, his movements sharp but careful. The door clicked shut behind us. His hand was still on my waist, firm. He didn't move. Neither did I.

I was caged in by him, his strong arms, the warmth radiating off his tall, muscular frame, the scent of expensive cologne and something darker, more primal. His black shirt hugged every part of his chest and abs perfectly, the buttons straining slightly. His jaw was sharp, his eyes cold but hypnotic. Every inch of him screamed danger.

He pulled back. Too soon.

"What do you think you're doing, young lady? Are you seriously following me?"

My throat was dry. I could barely find the words. My eyes were glued to his chest, to the way his muscles moved with every breath.

"Hey? I'm talking to you. Why are you following me?"

I finally met his gaze. "I want you."

Aria's POV

Damian smirked, tilting his head just a little. That smirk wasn't kind, it was wicked. "You look young. What's your name?"

"Aria."

"And how old are you, Aria?"

"Twenty-four."

He chuckled, but it wasn't amused. It was low and laced with warning. "You're drunk, Miss Aria. You don't know what you're doing. You should go home and sleep this off."

He turned to leave.

I reached out, grabbing his hand. My fingers trembled slightly. He paused and looked at my hand, then at me.

Embarrassed, i let go of him.

"I really do want you. Please."

Damian took a breath, like he was trying to be patient. "Listen. You're drunk, okay? I don't do things with drunk little girls."

"I'm not a little girl. I'm a grown woman. One who knows exactly what she wants."

He arched a brow. "Really?"

"Yes"

"And i am the one you want" damian said with a smirk.

"Yes you are" Aria responded immediately.

He stepped closer, lifted my chin with two fingers. His touch sent electric sparks across my skin. I swallowed hard.

"I hope you know what you're asking for, young lady."

"I do," I whispered. "The moment I saw you, I knew you were the only one who could quench this fire burning inside me."

His expression changed, just slightly. Something darker passed through his eyes.

"I'm dangerous, Aria. You don't know who I am. You're playing with fire."

"Maybe I love danger."

He leaned in closer, his chest brushing against mine. I could feel his heat, feel the raw strength in him. Our faces were just inches apart. His breath fanned against my skin, sending chills down my spine.

"Are you sure about this?" he asked, voice low, intense. "Sure you won't run away crying later?"

"I won't. I want you. That's it."

He stared at me, eyes searching mine like he was trying to see how far I'd go.

He reached up, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. That single, gentle touch made my heart pound against my ribs.

I placed my hand on his chest. God, it felt like steel beneath his shirt. I looked up at him.

"Kiss me," I said. "Do whatever you want with me."

His grip on my waist tightened. Without another word, he pushed me gently but firmly against the wall, his hands gripping my hips. Then he crashed his lips into mine.

The kiss wasn't soft. It wasn't slow. It was hungry. Possessive. His mouth claimed mine like I already belonged to him. I moaned against him, fingers tangling in his hair. He tasted like whiskey and temptation.

His hands roamed, sliding up my sides, molding my body against his. My heart was racing, my legs trembling, but I didn't want it to stop. I needed more. Needed him.

He pulled back slightly, letting me breathe, but just barely. His lips brushed mine again, teasing, making my head spin.

He pulled back again , almost moving away.

I grabbed his shirt and pulled him back. "Don't stop."

He kissed me again, deeper this time. My body melted into his. I didn't care where we were. I didn't care who he was. All that mattered was that his mouth was on mine and I never wanted it to end.

He pulled back again, breathing hard. His hands were still on my waist.

"You're playing a dangerous game, Aria."

I stared into his eyes, my lips tingling, my body aching for more.

"Then let me lose."

He didn't say anything. Just looked at me. His gaze was intense, like he could see through me, down to my soul.

And for a second, I thought he might kiss me again. But instead, he stepped back. Slowly.

"I don't want you to regret later"

He turned and walked toward the door.

Women might've thrown themselves at him, but he didn't even glance their way. He opened the door and walked into the hallway, disappearing into the shadows again.

I leaned against the cold wall, breathless, my heart still racing.

I licked my lips, tasting him.

Marco thought I'd break down because of him... I smiled to myself, still panting, still burning inside.

No. I won't. Now I've seen what I want. And I'll definitely get it.

I didn't want it to end. Not yet. Not when every inch of my body still tingled from his touch, from his kiss. As he turned to leave, something snapped inside me. I rushed forward and wrapped my arms around him from behind, pressing myself into his back, letting my hands slide over his hard chest. He froze.

"Please don't go," I whispered, my voice laced with desperation and need. "Don't leave me now. I'm so... so horny right now. Please."

There was a pause.

Then his voice came, low and dangerous, like a growl vibrating through his chest. "You're tempting me, Aria."

He didn't move, but I could feel the tension ripple through his body. My heart raced.

"I'm giving you a chance to walk away right now," he said coldly. "If you don't, I won't stop again. And once I start... there's no turning back."

I swallowed hard, my body pulsing with desire. "I don't want to leave. Not now. Not when I'm this aroused. I need you."

The air between us thickened with hunger. Then, he moved.

He spun around, grabbed me by the waist, and lifted me effortlessly, placing me on the vanity countertop. My breath hitched as my back met the mirror, my legs naturally parting around his waist.

He didn't hesitate.

He crashed his lips onto mine, kissing me with the hunger he must've tried to suppress. My fingers dug into his shirt, pulling him closer. His hand slid down to the dip of my neckline, feeling the rise and fall of my rapid breathing, the pounding of my heart.

He pulled back slightly, his lips brushing mine as he looked into my eyes.

"You really have no idea what you're getting yourself into, do you?" he murmured.

"Maybe I don't," i whispered breathlessly. "But I don't care. I want this. I want you."