One mistake I made, one confrontation I had, one gangster who never forgets.
*****
Alessia blinked, realising she was on a sofa. The last thing she remembered was sitting under the tree where Xavier had dropped her off, promising he'd be back. She must've dozed off right there, and now… here she was.
Something felt off and unfamiliar. The sofa, the quiet, the faint scent of cologne in the air. She sat up quickly at the sound of footsteps.
A figure moved towards me, his black outfit blending with the shadows until he stepped into the dim light.
"You're awake, love. With how deeply you slept, I wonder when was the last time you had a proper rest?"
His voice. Smooth, deep, and teasing as always. Enrico Rossetti.
Alessia glanced at the digital clock on the wall. 1:00 a.m. She sighed and sank back into the cushions as he approached and sat beside her.
His shirt hung open, revealing his inked chest tattoos crawling over warm-toned skin, daring to be touched. He was annoyingly attractive, and that gaze of his… it wasn't fair how it made my stomach twist.
"Why am I looking at his tattoos, when I should be asking what I'm doing here? Alessia thought to herself.
"You'll sign the contract tomorrow morning. La Notte Nera won't bother you again."
The words struck something in her. She straightened, eyes locking onto his.
"Thank you, Enrico." The words slipped out without permission, along with a flicker of emotion she didn't mean to show.
"You don't need to thank me, love. We had a deal. Keep your end."
She nodded, reminding herself that she'd agreed out of desperation. A deal she didn't fully understand… just to stay alive.
"So… what exactly do you want me to do?" Curiosity edged into her voice.
He chuckled low. "It's late, and you're clearly starving. Let's eat." He gestured to a dining table nearby.
That's when it hit her this wasn't just any place. It was his mansion. Stylish, sharp, unexpectedly beautiful. Nothing like what she imagined from a man like him.
As he stood to leave, she grabbed his hand. Her feet moved before she could think, bringing her close enough to see how tall he really was. She rose on tiptoe and kissed him.
It wasn't planned. She just… acted. Maybe it was the way he looked. The way she felt. For a second, everything faded.
He didn't kiss her back.
He just smiled, lifted her like she weighed nothing, and walked toward the dining room.
"You need to eat more, love. You were already light earlier now you're even lighter."
She shifted. "How can you just say that?"
He held me tighter, then set me gently on the chair.
"I want your hidden butts and peaches showing properly before I make any move. Eat well. I don't stop once I start."
Alessia's jaw dropped. She stood, glaring. "Did you just call me flat? Is that supposed to be an insult or some twisted compliment?"
He walked calmly to the other side of the table, rolled up his sleeves, and rinsed his hands at the sink near the wall. Then he returned and began serving the food.
He placed a plate in front of her. He served steaming lasagna al forno, its layers golden, with rich meat sauce and creamy béchamel.)
"You need to eat, love. It's getting cold," he said. "And you really question people too much. That's exactly what got you in trouble. Maybe work on that."
Alessia narrowed her eyes at him, then sat and stabbed into the lasagna. She chewed with aggression, trying to glare and eat at the same time.
Then she choked. Hard.
He didn't even flinch. Just kept eating.
She grabbed the water jug and poured fast, gulping it down, chest rising with relief.
"I'm surprised a final-year high school student doesn't know how to chew properly. Consider that your warning. Next time you might actually choke for real."
He said it like he was commenting on the weather. Eyes on his plate.
"What kind of villain did she get stuck with?", she wondered, "But the food... it was too good. Whoever cooked this deserved a thank-you gift.
"This food's amazing. I need to thank your chef after this."
"I don't have a chef."
She frowned. "Seriously? The restaurant then nailed it. You can tell me the name. Champagne and I can go after the exams"
"No restaurant."
Our eyes met. My fork paused mid-air. "...You didn't."
"Whatever you're thinking's true. I made it."
Alessia laughed, clapping slowly. "No way. You? Cooking?"
"Guess you'll have to believe it." He didn't even smile.
"I'm a disaster in the kitchen," she muttered, shaking her head.
The sound of his cutlery tapping the plate brought her back.
"Finish up. Xavier will take you to your room once you're done. We'll talk about the deal tomorrow morning."
"My room? Wait. Please don't tell me what I think you're about to say."
"You'll be staying here, love. Until your debt is cleared."
She stood quickly. "What am I, property now? I can stay at my house and still pay it off."
He stepped closer. She stepped back until the wall stopped her.
His hand reached up, brushing her hair back gently.
"I'm in charge, love. La Notte Nera doesn't keep promises. Even if he doesn't come for you, his children will."
Alessia stared at him, lips pressed tight. Then she nodded once.
"And don't tell anyone where you're staying. Not even your friend. You need rest."
He held her gaze a moment longer before leaving the room.
She leaned against the wall, her heart still racing. Something was happening to her. Whenever he was near, she couldn't't think straight. And now… she had to live here?
Well, she got herself into this.
Now she had to survive it.