Page 5 of Reckless Games

My eyes narrowed at the words. Who would send this to me? “Who gave it to you?”

“The delivery guy brought it to the front of the restaurant. Does it say who it's from?” Emily’s curiosity piqued and she plucked the note out of my hands. "Wow, talk about an unconventional love confession. He could have at least thrown in an 'I love you.' Maybe I should start giving your admirers some pointers; they won't stand a chance with lines like that." I shot her a pointed look, the one that screamed,are you kidding me?

“Open the bag,” Emily interjected, sensing the need to change the subject. I sighed and reached into the bag, pulling out a dress. And to say I was stunned would be an understatement; the dress was absolutely breathtaking. It would reach my midthigh easily. The deep, rich shade of crimson only added to its allure, enhancing its beauty in a way that left me speechless. It was simple, yet enchanting. “No freaking way! That's beautiful. I too want admirers now!”

"I don't know. I mean, don't you think something just feels... off?"

“You think too much. Eat the mangoes girl, don't count the pits. Plus, you are definitely wearing this tonight. We'll goout!” I had a weird feeling about all of this. And as far as I know, my intuitions are never wrong.

“Get back to work!” Margaret, the cafe’s manager, clapped twice sternly, grabbing our attention before I put the things away and went to take more orders from the customers.

***

"Are you still sulking on him?" Emily's voice cut through the pulsating beats of the club as I knocked back another shot. Despite my efforts to suggest a quiet dinner at a fancy place, she insisted on dragging me here. But I stood firm on my condition that if we were going to a club, it had to be of my choice. Which was why we were now standing inInferno.

"Who?" I feigned ignorance. She decided to wear a black spaghetti strap dress, reaching just above her knees while practically force-squeezing me into the dress that came in today from the stalker. Emily said it was too beautiful to be left waiting for it's turn. I couldn't deny, the dress did fit me like a second skin, enhancing every curve of my body. It made me feel sexy. What can I say? I was after all blessed in my woman-departments. More than needed, actually.

"Silver eyes?" Ah, there it was. I instantly regretted telling her anything aboutthatnight, but in my defense, I was drunk. At least Emily had promised to keep it under wraps, and so far, she was doing a decent job.

"You wish," I lied. Of course, I always thought of him. Did I sulk over the fact that I wouldn't see him again? Perhaps.

"Forget it then. Tonight, we're finding you a new guy. Let's hit the dance floor," Emily suggested enthusiastically.

"I'm really not in the mood." I declined, taking another shot.

"Oh, come on! Live a little. Who knows, we might just find you a handsome replacement who can outshine Mr. Silver Eyes." I highly doubt that, but was there any harm in trying? I guess not.

She pulled me onto the dance floor with an unyielding grip, and try as I might, I couldn't break free. With the pounding beat of the music engulfing us, she began to move, nudging me playfully to join in. Reluctantly, I started to sway, allowing the rhythm to guide my movements.

"Woohoo, own it, girl! Show 'em what you've got!" She cheered enthusiastically as I surrendered to the music. Maybe it was the alcohol, but I found myself letting go, embracing the intoxicating energy of the club.

As Emily caught the eye of a guy and began to engage with him, I found myself gradually drifting away from her, lost in the pulsating crowd. She danced off with the guy, both of them happily grinding on each other. Well, at least one of us was having a blast. I brushed aside the sudden pang of emptiness that struck me, determined to maintain a cheerful facade. However, our carefree moment was shattered when the sound of gunfire pierced through the music.

***

Lorenzo

Exhaling a puff of smoke, the cigar dangled lazily from my fingertips as my gaze remained fixed on her. From the heightened point of my office in the club, I had a perfect view of the captivating show she was putting on. Damn, she was utterly oblivious to the attention she was drawing. That's what I mean by her innocence—it's both endearing and infuriating. Yet, seeing her here, embracing my club, fills me with a sense of pride. I'm proud of her choices. And of mine. I knew that dresswould accentuate her beauty the moment my eyes fell on it, back when I was accompanying Emir—my ally and the leader of the Turkish Mafia—to select a few dresses for the girl he rescued—practically the wife of his sworn enemy. That guy has it deep for her and doesn't even fucking realize it.

My crotch pulsed, the blood immediately rushed to it as I saw her move her delectable body sensually to the beat of the music. Deep down, I kinda also regret buying that dress, as she was turning more heads than needed, igniting the urge to behead every single one of them. She always finds her way back here on the days she's feeling down. Whether it's because of her relentless manager who never cuts her any slack during shifts, or to escape the haunting memories of her parents’ death. How do I know? Because I keep a vigilant watch over everything that'smine.

Angela Thompson, soon to be Angela Martinez, became the catalyst of my undoing, the bane of my existence the night she rescued me. Now, I'm at her beck and call, a willing servant prepared to fulfill her every command, all without her even realizing it. She was mine the moment my eyes landed on her. At that time, I was too fucking stupid to realize what the changes in my heartbeat meant. But now it was all crystal clear.

But really, who in their right mind would save an injured stranger, let alone accompany them to the hospital, all while he's wielding a gun and engaging in acts of killing people? It defied all rationality. Yet, she didjustthat. It was this inexplicable act of kindness that compelled me to keep a vigilant watch over her. An innocent beauty like her, in a world as ruthless as ours, needed my protection. And I was determined that it would be minealoneto provide.

“Another night of admiring her from afar?”Another night of pure torture and understanding the meaning of soclose, yet so far,I wanted to correct Giovanni as he sauntered into my office, sinking into the couch with a heavy sigh. But I decided not to say anything. “When are you deciding to make yourself known to her?” When the time comes. And when would that be? I had not decided yet.

"Declan needed some border security for the shipment. Is it taken care of?" I inquired instead.

"Yes, I just sorted it out. He mentioned he'll reach out if he needs more weapons," he replied. I nodded, taking another puff of smoke from my cigar. My gaze locked on the enchantress as I stood before the expansive glass window. "I believe we may have a slight issue," Giovanni muttered, a frown etched on my features before I pivoted to meet his gaze. However, his eyes were fixed on the security footage screen across the room. Five armed men forcefully breached the club's entrance, shooting the guards who attempted to block their path. Gunfire erupted as they stormed inside.

I bolted out of the office, Giovanni hot on my tail, barking orders to rally my men. The urgency in my voice echoed through the chaos as I called for them to gather around swiftly. As I set foot in the club, a wave of déjà vu washed over me, the familiar scene of pandemonium unfolding before my eyes. Amidst the screams and cries, my focus honed in on one person: Angela. The rest of the club could light up in flames for all I cared, as long as she remained unharmed.

Anger ignited within me as I witnessed her struggling to assist her friend, who lay slumped against the wall, drunk. That's not what angered me. It was the sight of an intruder closing in on Angela with a gun aimed at her back. In a split second, I drew my gun, my finger tightening on the trigger as I aimed, the bullet finding its mark in the center of the intruder's forehead. My men sprang into action, neutralizing the remaining threats and ushering the people to safety, while I made a beeline for Angela.

I noticed her trembling with each gunshot. My heart clenched at the sight of her vulnerability. Damn it, I needed to get her to safety. It became clear that the initial five men were merely a distraction, as more men emerged, turning the club into a battleground. I would be damned if I let history repeat itself on my watch. Not here in my vicinity, not now.

A bullet whizzed past me and my head whipped to pinpoint its source—a hulking figure throwing a sharp glare my way. With lightning reflexes, I returned fire, three shots piercing his chest, sending him crashing to the ground.

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