Page 3 of Dark Mafia Heir

“No.” He shakes his head, still giving me that dark, delicious, intense look that swallows up the noise around us and makes me feel like I’m the only one in the room. “I’ll prefer if you call me by my name.”

I suddenly remember that I’m not the only one in the room. Harper. My eyes find hers, and I try to snap out of whatever spell this man has me in.

“I’m sorry, but we have to go.”

He looks over his shoulder and smiles at my sister. “Don’t you think I should buy your sister a drink? That man tried to ruin your night, but I can make up for it.”

Harper does not look too convinced. Her eyes tell me she is uncomfortable and wants to leave, but his charm seems to have worked on her, too, because she rubs her arm and nods. “Sure. You did help us, so I guess one drink is not too much to ask for.”

“Grazie.” Thank you.

And my stomach dips with a warm sensation when it makes a seamless click. It makes so much sense, that poise, the insane level of unearthly beauty, and the accent.

He’s Italian.

By the time I snap back to the present moment, he’s telling Harper something about taking me to the bar across the street because the drinks there taste better. He extends the invite, but Harper doesn’t want to join in. He directs her to stay in his VIP section because it’s safer there and advises her to keep her phone close.

He’s a stranger, and we should not trust strangers, but I can’t help the tug in my chest as I watch their interaction and his gentleness with my sister.

Harper gives me a cautionary glance, one with a message:don’t hesitate to scream or call if you have to.

I nod. Message received and sent back.

Satisfied, she clutches her purse and walks away with a bodyguard we hadn’t seen standing there, leaving me and the perfect stranger alone.

“She’s safe, don’t worry.” He turns back to me and extends his arm. “Shall we?”

The music pounds through my chest, a deep bass that makes the floor vibrate beneath my feet, although I think my heart is beating for some other reason.

Shyly, I blush and hook my arm through his, allowing him to lead us through the sea of gyrating bodies and smooching partners. His tall frame, which stands out like a six-feet-three athlete, cuts through the masses like a knife, and I follow close behind, my fingers slipping into his without thinking.

We move towards the back of the club, away from the pulsing lights and sweat-slick air, to the back door with the neon exit sign gleaming atop. The heavy door creaks as he shoves it open, and a rush of cool night air hits me, sharp and refreshing against my flushed skin.

Quietly, I laugh when he closes the door behind us, blocking the thrum of the club, and ushers us into the narrow alley, dimly lit by flickering streetlamps at the far end. It’s quieter out here,but my heart’s still racing, the adrenaline the night pumping through my veins.

I brush my hair behind my ears. “This is crazy.” I smile up at him. “I don’t even know your name, and we’re in an alley.”

Mirth flashes through his eyes, but he just stands there in all his intimidating glory, with his hands tucked into his pockets. He looks sharper than a knife with a black button-down tailored for his broad chest.

“Antonio.” His shoulders nudge towards the bar at the other end of the street. “And I really did bring you out to get a drink across the street.”

Something cackles in the air between us, thick and suffocating, like static before a storm, and it pulses between us with every glance, every breath. It’s a heat that crawls across my skin, making the space feel smaller, until it’s just the two of us, locked in this silent, unspoken thing.

I swallow to find my voice. “But?”

There’s a dark, sharp flicker behind his eyes, somehow daring me to look away, but drawing me in at the same time. When he takes steps towards me, I take a step back.

He moves again, and I move back, slamming into a wall behind me. My pulse quickens, a steady thrum in my chest that echoes this tension cracking between us.

The corner of his lips curve upwards and I can tell he’s enjoying this. I square my chin, narrowing my eyes with a feigned defiance. “The bar is across the street. Why aren’t we moving?”

He’s too close, not close enough, and every nerve in my body screams for more, for less, for something to break.

“Because, what’s crazy is that I don’t even know your name, and I feel a crazy urge to kiss you senseless, until one of us gasps for air.”

Damn.That didn’t just leave his mouth. Did it?

My breathing falters as the heat flares higher, the tension pulling tighter like a thin rope about to snap, and I know he feels it, too. It’s in the way he’s standing, just barely holding himself back, as if one wrong word, one wrong move, and we’d be crossing a line we can’t come back from.

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