The Mafia’s Forbidden Desire

The past few days have been really overwhelming for me. I’ve been deeply involved in assisting with the arrangements for both Sofia’s wedding and her Engagement party. Today, however, was the engagement party.

I was dressed in a red lacy dress that boasted an off-shoulder neckline, gracefully revealing my décolletage and an enticing amount of my cleavage. The lower part of the dress had a thigh-high slit, exposing just the right amount of my legs. The entire look exuded flirtatiousness, but did I care? I simply dressed in what I felt beautiful in.

The moment I stepped into the garden where the party was being held, I sensed the gaze of unfamiliar eyes upon me, which made me feel slightly uncomfortable.

Everyone appeared cheerful, dressed in their elegant and expensive dresses and tuxedos.

I looked around, anticipating seeing the one person that I had been longing for. The groom-to-be.

It’s been a week since I last saw him in the kitchen, and not even a day has passed that I haven’t thought of him.

I thought being away from him would help me overcome my attraction for him, but I was wrong. My attraction for him was deeply rooted within me, and he lingered in my mind every minute of every day.

“Hello, Rosalinda.” A voice suddenly jerked me out of my thoughts, and I swung my head to the side to see a blonde man standing beside me.

I was familiar with his face; he was one of my father’s many business associates. Although I had seen him a couple of times before, I didn’t know his name or who he was.

“Lorenzo.” He introduced himself, extending his hand for a handshake as if he had read my mind.

A polite smile curled on my lips as I took his hand.

“You look exceptionally beautiful,” he complimented, his gaze lingering on my body in a way that made me profoundly uncomfortable.

I faked a smile. “Thank you.”

“I’m curious.” He began, and I raised a brow as I leveled his gaze, wondering what he was curious about. “Why would Roberto marry off his second daughter when his first daughter is whole, beautiful, and very much still available?”

I disliked him.

Again, I feigned a smile as I replied. “Perhaps he’s reserving me for a more suitable man.”

Which wasn’t true anyway. There was a deeper and darker reason behind it.

He let out a rich, throaty laugh, his eyes fixed in a particular direction. “Are you trying to tell me that the Antonio Russo right there isn’t a befitting man?”

I trailed his line of sight, and I let out an almost inaudible gasp when my eyes met someone’s.

My pulse quickened, and a swarm of butterflies fluttered in my stomach as I stared at him, unable to take my gaze off him.

Antonio was standing right there in his black pinstripe suit, looking as breathtaking as always.

He was standing beside Sofia, and his gaze was filled with murderous intent as he stared at us.

“So, what type of man do you consider befitting?” Lorenzo continued, snapping me out of my daze, and I quickly averted my gaze from Antonio’s.

I felt my cheeks getting hot, and that heat soon radiated to every part of my body.

Damn! I needed water. I needed to drink water to cool down the intense heat within me.

I raised my head to meet Lorenzo’s gaze, and I flashed a polite smile at him as I spoke. “Please excuse me.”

Without hesitation, I walked away from him, making my way into the mansion and to the kitchen.

Fuck. Even after a week, his mere gaze still ignited the same blazing effect on me, and I hated it. I hated him.

After gulping down the second glass of water, the heat radiating within me finally began to cool off.

With frustration clawing at my chest, I violently placed the glass cup on the counter. Raising my head back up, my gaze met Antonio’s, and the heat I had managed to cool off came rushing back with full intensity. Fuck.

He was standing in the door frame with his hands crossed over his chest, staring at me intently as if he were observing me.

How long has he been standing there?

“What are you doing there?” I quickly asked.

His gaze never leaving mine, he walked further into the room, inching closer to me.

“You have a very decent dress on.” He muttered, his deep, velvety voice going straight to my core. He cocked his head when he came to a stop in front of me, his eyes sweeping from my head to my toe as he continued. “So decent that no man would even spare you a glance.”

Sarcasm!

“That’s precisely why I carefully chose this dress. I didn’t want uncomfortable gazes directed at my body.” I countered with equal sarcasm.

“Go and get changed.” He muttered, his voice brimming with unwavering authority.

I raised a brow. “And who are you to order me around?”

“Just because I have been easy on you doesn’t mean you can disrespect me. I could break you if I wished.” He muttered, his menacing eyes staring intently at me.

“You have no right to order me around.” I pressed on, refusing to be intimidated by his sudden cold demeanor.

“Go and get changed.” He repeated, his jaw tightening.

“No,” I retorted.

“Stubborn,” he sighed, slipping his hand into his pocket and retrieving a gold lighter.

He took a step forward, closing the distance between us, and I instinctively veered back.

“What are you doing?” I asked as he flicked open the lighter, igniting the flame. I stared at it, bewildered.

His eyes never leaving mine, he crouched down, leaving me to wonder what was going on in his mind.

Before I could comprehend what was happening, the flame from the lighter was already touching my dress, burning its way up from the hem of the slit.

Instinctively, I veered back, my eyes filling with horror.

“Are you crazy?” I yelled as I leaned forward in an attempt to put out the fire, but he had already patted it out before it could touch my skin.

An amused smile played on his lips as he rose up.

What was so amusing? Did he find pleasure in burning people alive? Fucking psychopath.

“You drive me crazy, Rosalinda.” He replied and glanced at me for a second, or maybe longer, before swiftly turning around and walking away from me, leaving me with a ruined dress.

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