Page 66 of Dark Mafia Heir

I seriously have to work on getting my head out of the gutter. It is the first time he’s willingly requested my company to his club, and it might not be a big deal, but to me, it is.

After the surprise bouquet of roses and a huge human-sized teddy bear a few days ago, I wasn’t sure what to think of Antonio Mancini anymore.

It was all very confusing; first, he locked me in, then ambushed me with the most unexpected gifts.

What was I supposed to do?

I froze on that bed, sensing a wave of shock ripple through my entire body. I had tried to process it, imagined what he’d looked like, searching through the aisles, picking the gallant bouquet, and dragging the items through the doors.

My heart melted that afternoon and turned into a puddle when he crowned his efforts with an actual, purposefully articulated apology.

There was nothing else to do but forgive him and leave the whole thing behind as swiftly as he wanted to, because whatever unexplainable insanity was going on between us, was affecting him too.

Shaking my head, I’m back to the present, where my hand is tightly linked with Antonio’s as he leads me away from the noise and sweaty bodies.

His little finger locks with mine, and the thrill is like electricity, traveling straight to my toes.

Biting down on my lip, I disperse the image of dragging him to a corner to put that naughty finger of his between my legs. Not tonight.

“This is unusual.”

I practically have to shout over the noise to get Antonio’s attention. He glances over his shoulder at me.

“What?”

Green light pours on his face, flashing against his schooled features before swirling into a fade. My heart skips a beat at his heightened level of attractiveness, and I clear my throat before asking again.

“I was saying, tonight feels a bit unusual. It’s a bit louder, somehow. Or maybe it’s just me. But why’s everyone jumping around?”

“Unusual?”

He’d only heard that part. The rest got lost in juvenile shrieks. Chuckling, I don’t bother repeating.

“Yeah!”

We’re both shouting above the noise and smiling at how ridiculous it sounds. Finally, we get to a private VIP section. Security guards stand on either side—more like secret bodybuilder soldiers— and nod in acknowledgment when we pass the lush red ropes.

Antonio guides me forward to a velvet sofa, placing his large hand on the small of my back. I’m wearing a red halter dress that stops mid-thigh, and the back is cut low. The warmth radiating off his palm scorches my skin, and I am hyperaware of how close we are sitting together.

“Some kid’s twentieth birthday,” he says after we settle comfortably beside each other. “Father’s a politician. He rented out the club for tonight.”

That explains it.

A dark brow raises on his face. “Does it bother you? If it does, we can go elsewhere. I have a couple more places you haven’t seen yet.”

I smile at him, shifting closer to bask in his scent. It makes me heady and weakens my knees, leaving me wanting to bury my face in the crook of his neck.

Instead, I focus. “It doesn’t. But is that why you brought me here? To eat some cake?”

“You know that’s not why. I thought you should come out of the house, see a bit more than the four walls of the bedroom.”

“How thoughtful.”

He leans forward and kisses my nose, and by the time he pulls away, I know I’m blushing red like a tomato. My heart is hammering so loud, that I forget to breathe.

What’s wrong with you, Vi?

He starts talking about trying different ways of living with me, twirling a strand of hair around his finger, but I get distracted by a movement near the security guard.

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