The Mafia Don's Temptation

ARIA

The hands on me suddenly disappeared, and I scrambled away, backing into the cold brick wall.

"Scar," the robber's voice trembled as he collapsed to the ground.

My breath hitched. Two men had appeared out of nowhere, and now they were beating the robber mercilessly. Each punch landed with sickening force as the sounds of cracking bones echoed through the alley.

I forced myself to look up at the man who had saved me. He stood dangerously tall, his broad frame casting a dark silhouette under the dim streetlight. Long, dark hair framed his chiseled features, but what held me captive were his storm-gray eyes. Piercing. Unreadable. A jagged scar slashed through his brow, running down to his ear. I had no idea who he was, but the way the attacker cowered before him told me all I needed to know.

This was a man people feared.

A strangled groan from the robber pulled my attention back to him. He was barely moving now, and his face had become unrecognizable beneath all the blood.

"Please stop," I choked out in a hoarse voice. The two men ignored me, continuing to land brutal blows.

Desperate, I turned to the scarred man. "Please tell them to stop," I pleaded. I didn't want this man to die, especially not because of me.

His gaze remained on me as he finally spoke. "Basta."

I understood a little bit of Italian, little enough to know that he had told them to stop. At his command, the beating ceased instantly.

Relief flooded me, but it was short-lived. My reality came knocking back down on me. I was in a dark alley with three, dangerous-looking, unknown men who had just saved me from being raped. I had nowhere else to go, and I had no money.

I was utterly and completely f**ked.

"Do you want to sit there forever?" 

The deep, gravelly voice filled my ears, and it took me a moment to realize the question was directed at me. I blinked up at him, too stunned to respond.

"She might be in shock, boss," one of the men said with laughter in his voice.

He shook his head, but a hint of a smile appeared on his lips. This man was ridiculously handsome, and I was making a fool of myself in his presence. 

He began to walk towards me, his long legs swallowing the space between us. Instinctively, I pressed further into the wall, but he kept coming until his polished shoes were inches from my bare feet. Then, to my utter shock, he crouched before me, and his scent wrapped around me like smoke and spice. I wanted to bury my face in his neck.

"Are you in shock, Red?"

His voice was rough, sending an involuntary shiver through me.

Red?

What was with the nickname? And why was he talking to me like I was a broken doll?

I blinked, forcing my thoughts to clear. "I-I'm fine. Just... rattled," I muttered, forcing myself to stand. My legs were unsteady, but I refused to let him see me as, in fact, a weak, broken doll.

In the blink of an eye, he was back to his full height and already turning away.

Panic flared in my chest. I couldn't let him leave me here alone.

"Wait!"

He paused, slowly turning back to me.

"I..." I swallowed my pride. "I don't have anywhere to go." My voice was laced with shame. "Can you help me? Just some money... until I figure things out?"

I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me whole. The escape plan I envisioned never involved begging a complete stranger for money. But on the bright side, this man-Scar-looked rich and powerful. He could give me some money if he wanted to.

He didn't answer right away. Instead, his gaze swept over me in silent assessment. I felt a prickle of awareness and something else I couldn't quite describe as his grey eyes trailed over my skin.

Then, finally, he said, "You're coming with me."

I blinked. "What?"

"You asked for help."

"I asked you to help me with some money, not to follow you to God- knows-where," I let out a small scoff. "I don't even know you. What if you're a kidnapper?"

God, I sounded like such a brat. But Evita's warning kept ringing at the back of my head.

"A kidnapper?" He chuckled like I said something hilarious. 

His voice turned serious when he spoke again. "I don't have all night. You can either wander in the dark all night, and possibly come across more thieves and dangerous people lurking in these alleyways...or come with me." He cocked his head. "Your choice."

I exhaled sharply, and when he turned to walk away again, I followed him.

A sleek black Rolls-Royce was parked by the curb. He reached for the door handle and opened the door for me. I hesitated for a second before sliding in. He joined me in the back, his large frame taking up the space beside me. As the car pulled away, I realized how absurd this was. I had no idea who this man was, yet I had just willingly gotten into his car.

Minutes later, we arrived at a luxury hotel. He led me into a lavish suite, and I was surprised when I saw one of the men from earlier handing my pink suitcase over to the hotel staff. I'd completely forgotten that I left it behind when the thief started chasing me. 

Just as I was about to thank him, he turned to leave.

"Where are you going?" I blurted out.

He checked his watch. "I have a birthday party to attend, and I'm already late. You can stay here. They'll provide you with everything you need."

I swallowed, gripping the edge of my dress. I didn't want to be alone, especially since I'd found the first person who made me feel safe ever since I stepped foot in Italy. 

"Please don't leave me here alone."

Something flickered in his eyes. Annoyance? Amusement? I couldn't tell. 

Clenching his jaw, he fixed me a hard stare. "You have five minutes."

I didn't waste a second. I took the fastest shower of my life and changed into a simple yellow dress. When I stepped out, I caught his eyes lingering on me for just a moment before he turned on his heel and walked out. I exhaled shakily and followed him.

The drive was short, and soon, we arrived at a private club. He stepped out of the car and held the door open for me. The cold night air hit my skin as I stepped down. A small shiver wracked through my body as the door slammed shut behind me. Next thing I knew, something warm and thick was being placed over my shoulders. I looked up to see it was his jacket. 

What a way to make a girl melt.

We stepped into the building, and from the looks of it, it was a private club. Men in expensive suits and women in equally expensive and luxurious dresses that put my simple yellow dress to shame. Loud music blasted through the speakers as disco lights twirled on the ceiling. Several bodies in the dancefloor swayed to the music, and the rest were pressed against each other. 

He took my hand, leading me through the crowd.

"Scar, I didn't know you'd be here," a voice drawled from behind us.

Scar. That was the second time someone had called him that.

We turned to face a man with slicked-back blond hair and a grin that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Marco," Scar greeted in a low, sharp voice.

The two men exchanged a tense handshake, and something about Scar's posture told me he didn't like Marco.

Marco's gaze slid to me, his smirk widening.

"Damn," he chuckled. "She's one fine piece of ass."

Heat flamed up my neck, but before I could react, Scar moved, and in an instant, he was nose-to-nose with Marco.

"Look at her like that again, and you're dead," he said in a lethal whisper.

I gulped. Marco chuckled nervously. 

"I was just joking, man."

"I wasn't."

Tension crackled between them and hung in the air between us. I quickly turned to the bar, needing an escape.

"I need a drink," I murmured to no one in particular.

On getting to the bar, I asked for tequila and the bartender poured me a shot. I tipped my head back and poured the liquid into my mouth. I  took a second glass and turned to see that Scar had taken the seat beside me. 

"Never walk away from me like that," he warned.

I ignored him and grabbed another shot. I downed the drink, then another. That was when I glanced beside me to see five empty shot glasses in front of Scar. I frowned at him. When did he take all that? And why didn't he look the slightest bit drunk?

He reached out just as I lifted my fourth shot of the night, his fingers wrapping around my wrist before I could bring the glass to my lips.

"That's enough," he said firmly.

 My arm tingled where he touched, and suddenly I wanted his hands all over my body.

I pulled my hand free, swaying slightly. "Let's dance," I challenged.

"I don't dance," he muttered.

"Then stand there while I go look for someone else to dance with."

He let out a rough breath, but his hands found my waist, gripping me tightly.

"You're a tease," he slurred roughly in my ear, and in my tipsy haze, I realized he might actually be drunk.

Slightly, of course.

My breathing became laboured as I grinded against him, feeling his hardness flush against my skin. He held my waist firmly, and I admired the way he squeezed my dress in his big hands. I noticed black ink peeking out of the sleeves of his shirt.

This man was dangerous, and I was dancing straight into his fire.

I turned to face him and his hungry gaze met mine. My fingers twitched with the urge to touch the scar running down his face. I lifted my hand without thinking-

He caught my wrist in a strong grip. "Don't."

I swallowed hard. "How did it happen?"

"You don't want to know," he said, and I saw a hint of a smile on his lips.

Another shiver went through me, and I brought my face closer to his.

"How old are you?" He gritted out, slightly tipping his head back.

His sharp jaw was clenched and he looked like he was restraining himself. His hooded gaze remained on my lips, and maybe it was drunken boldness, but I pulled my lower lip between my teeth. A dark, dangerous expression crossed his eyes, and I felt my body throb in arousal.

"Twenty. I'm not old enough to drink in America," I whispered.

"Thank God we're not in America then," he said as his lips captured mine.

He pulled me into him with ease until my feet were above the ground. The heat of his mouth and tongue sent fire swirling through my veins, and my hands slid around his broad shoulders to pull him closer. His hand wrapped around the back of my neck and he pressed his body harder against me. There was nothing gentle or patient about the kiss. It was frantic and urgent, and when I moaned softly at the feeling of his stubble scratching across my face, a soft grunt left his lips. He broke the kiss and I found myself reaching for his lips again. I didn't want it to stop.

"We should leave," he rasped against my lips. I nodded, and he didn't spare another second as he tugged my hand again and led me outside. I felt a little bit lightheaded, but my body was fully aware of everything that was happening.

We entered his car again and the scorching heat of desire that burned my skin only felt worse. His hot gaze slithered down my frame as I slowly took his suit jacket off. His sharp intake of breath echoed in the small space between us, and my own breathing became very heavy.

"You shouldn't have done that," he murmured.

I exhaled shakily as his hand landed on the exposed skin of my left thigh. I closed my eyes and felt his touch there, tracing delicate circles over the pale, bare skin.

"What's your real name?" I asked as my head fell back in pleasure. He seemed to have a different idea as he grabbed my waist, lifted me up and placed me in a straddling position. The heat seeping out from under the fabric of his pants made my skin buzz pleasantly.

 "I'll tell you mine when you tell me yours," he gritted out roughly, a contrast to the gentle kiss he placed on my temple seconds later. 

My breathing slowed slightly as he continued stroking over my leg. I couldn't help the involuntary moan that slipped out of my lips. 

"Aria," I said as my eyelids drooped lazily against my will. His fingers were moving slowly along my thigh and I found myself growing wetter by the second. His fingers shifted my panties to the side as I worked on his belt.

"Yours?" I hummed.

He smiled against my ear before whispering, "Maximo."

He slipped inside me at that exact moment, and I moaned again. An overwhelming pleasure consumed my entire being, and in the next few minutes, I was coming undone in his arms. A deep, satisfied sigh left my lips as I rested my head against his shoulder. And when I closed my eyes, I was swallowed into a deep slumber.

***

I woke up to the soft glow of morning light filtering through the windows. My head pounded as I sat up, realizing I was in his hotel room.

My heart slammed against my ribs. What the hell happened last night?

Then I saw a tray of breakfast on the bedside table, a thick wad of cash that made a short breath escape my lips, and next to it, a note.

The money you asked for. Don't be tempted to leave, I'll be back soon. Wait for me.

-Maximo.

I reached for my phone, my stomach twisting when I saw the several missed calls and voicemails left by the man I dreaded the most.

With shaky hands, I pressed play.

My stepfather's voice slithered through the speaker, venomous and full of rage.

"I know you ran off to Italy, cunt. I'll find you... and I'll fucking kill you."