Page 7 of Arturo's Temptation

“I wouldn’t hold your breath. But go ahead, be my guest,” she winked. Clicking my tongue, I reached out and grabbed her wrist, my fingers sinking into her velvety soft skin.

When she glanced back over her shoulder, her face remained impassive, but judging by how her hands were fisted at her sidesI could tell she was pissed off. “I’d be careful speaking to me like that,” I started. “People might think you don’t know who I am.”

“I don’t give a flying fuck who you are,” she hissed before snatching her hand away and stepping close until we were toe-to-toe. “But I’ll tell you one thing, you sure as hell have no idea who I am. Have a nice night, London.” With a satisfied glint in her eye and a flick of her hair, she stomped away. I couldn’t help but watch how easily she weaved through the sea of people and exited via the staircase at the back of the bar.

Well, that was fun.

“Pretty, huh?” I frowned and flicked my eyes to the bartender who was stood drying a shot glass. “Trust me, I would.” He winked. I was just about to tell him to keep his filthy trap shut when a voice came from behind me, beating me to it.

“You would what, exactly?” An older geezer, dressed head to toe in black and hair so red it should have come with its own warning label leaned against the bar to my right. “Wipe the drool off your fucking mouth and get back to work.” The guy tossed the bartender a napkin as the young lad scurried away with his tail between his legs. I chuckled to myself as I began to leave only to be stopped by a firm hand on my shoulder.

“Not so fast, kid, someone wants to see you.”Kid?! Is this guy feeling alright?!

“You like your hands, Fireman Sam?” I asked.

“I’m quite attached to them, yeah.” He laughed and it was clear he wasn’t just anybody.

Did I care?No, I didn’t.

“Then get the fuck off me.” I shrugged his hand off but that didn’t stop him.

“Wasn’t a request, kid.” Uh-huh, so this was an order. Good job I didn’t take orders.

“And that someone can go get fucked for all I care. Ta-ra.” I made it all of two steps before I was intercepted by another olderbloke, again dressed all in black. He pressed his index finger against his chin as his head tilted to the side.

“Yeah, I don’t think so.” The dark-haired gent was sterner than the other. With both of them clapping their hands to my shoulders I quickly determined it would be better to see who was beckoning me before trying anything. “The quicker you cooperate, the quicker you get to fuck off.”

“Alright, alright!” I flicked their hands off my shoulders. “No need to get your fuckin’ knickers in a twist! I’ve got legs.” I caught them glance at one another with a smirk. Wankers.

They directed me towards the same stairs the woman from earlier had disappeared up. This could mean I was either getting thrown outside or ‘someone’ wanted to see me in the back office. I rolled my eyes at the unwelcome interruption to what should have been a celebration. As we exited the noise of the club into a dimly lit corridor, I noticed a heavily armed guy in front of a wooden door. He nodded before letting us through.

“Boss.” The red headed guy said as a middle-aged, Italian-looking man glanced up from behind a big mahogany desk.

The geezer had on a crisp white shirt rolled up to the elbows showcasing an elegantly scrawled name ‘Anastacia’tattooed down one forearm. Dark locks framed a harsh face that sported a long-healed scar running along his cheekbone. He cleared his throat and tapped a finger sporting a black wedding band against a crystal whisky tumbler.

This man needed no introduction, it was clear as day who he was.

Lorenzo Ricci, Don of the Sicilian Mafia. Shit. And here was me thinking I was gonna have a quiet night to myself.

5

Friday,30th March, 11:54pm

I sighed and settled back into the booth, watching Lily bounce with barely held excitement as she sipped on her cocktail. She was an easy going, happy person with more cheer going for her than a cheerleader, but with her wedding now only a few months away, she was on another level.

“So, are you excited to be my maid of honour?” She beamed, downing the rest of her margarita.

“Of course! I am so happy for you and Steven.” I gave her my best smile and took a sip from my club soda. Internally I groaned. It’s not that I had anything against weddings per se, but anything that required me to show up in a pretty dress and put up with hours and hours of PDAs wasn’t something I enjoyed. But Lily deserved happiness and I was genuinely happy for her. Besides, she and Steven were perfect for one another. At my response, she smiled and curled her blond hair behind her ear before flagging down one of the floor staff for another drink.

Lily had been one of my best friends throughout school despite how different our lives had been. She was pretty, funny, outgoing and everybody loved her. Her mother was a lawyer and her father was a well known surgeon. If I was being honest withmyself, I had envied her life on more than one occasion. The lack of need for protection. Going where she pleased. Wearing what she wanted. Talking to who she wanted to. She’d always been able to live her life freely, whereas I hadn’t. Part of me wished I could be more like her. “So,” she chirped, accepting the new margarita from the waiter with a wide grin, “any news on the date front?” I rolled my eyes. She already knew the answer to that, I didn’t date. Ever. I couldn’t understand why she kept asking.

“Lil,” I gave her a pointed look, “nothing’s changed since the last time you asked. You know how I feel about relationships. I just don’t think they’re for me.”

“I get that, I do, but I just think?—”

“Please don’t tell me you’re about to suggest setting me up with one of Steven’s groomsmen,” I sighed, knowing exactly where she was going.

“But Steven—” she smiled until she was interrupted by a nasally voice.

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