Vengeance: DARK MAFIA ROMANCE

Eight

Savio

It takes Natalia a long time to cross the huge dining room, weaving between empty tables in awkward silence. Adrian, my lawyer, clears his throat, sifting in his seat next to me. He's spent years tracking the affairs of Vincente and Natalia, helping me arrange watertight traps around them, but he's never seen either of them.

He clearly isn't expecting the earnest, everyday type of girl approaching us. "Are you sure about this?" he murmurs. My only answer is to slide the paperwork sitting in front of him across so that it rests next to my glass of wine. Natalia's eyes follow the papers as she reaches the table, a glint of hope breaking her rigid mask of anxiety. She hesitates, her hands trailing along the back of the empty chair in front of her, waiting for some kind of invitation. I drink her in, savoring the knowledge that Luca and Nathan are watching the exits, forcing her to stay here until I decide she can leave.

"Have a seat," Adrian offers finally when I don't speak. "Is white wine alright?" He lifts a half-empty bottle of chardonnay from the bucket of wine by the table. She nods, her eyes never leaving my hands, which rest on the stack of paper. She's trying to read between my fingers. I slide them together to block her view, forcing her to lift her eyes to my face.

Adrian finishes pouring the wine and nudges it toward her, but she ignores the glass. She's trying so hard to be strong, to read me while hiding her own feelings, but she's not good at it. There's a war behind her eyes. Anger, fear, desperation...and desire.

Noting her arrival, two waiters emerge from the kitchen with our entrees. The only sound in the room is the shuffling of their feet and the clinking of plates; I instructed the manager to turn off the background music for this evening. I want no distractions, no sense of normalcy. The aroma of fresh salmon fills the table, and I can see her swallowing saliva, even though she should be too frightened to eat. I've left her starving, desperate, and now she won't eat unless I give her permission.

I pick up my fork and take a melting, luxurious bite of fish, savoring the flavor as I chew. When I finally swallow, I open my eyes and nod at her, gesturing to her plate. "Go ahead, Natalia." She visibly jumps when she hears her name on my tongue. I hope she never gets used to it. Picking the incorrect fork out of the fine dinnerware lineup, she digs into the salmon almost greedily. As she and Adrian eat, I watch, only taking the occasional bite.

I'm trying to assess if she's ready for this; I've spent so long waiting for the right time that now I can't recognize it when it comes. The plan that seemed so perfect in the heat of the moment now feels incomplete and ill-considered. But it doesn't matter anymore because I need this. Now that I have touched her, breathed in her scent, the idea of anyone else having her for even a second drives me insane. Del Toro is the one to blame for my rush; his sudden interest in Natalia is forcing me to stake my claim early and emphatically.

Or maybe I'm just bored of the game. I have the queen surrounded, but she won't surrender. It's time to take her. Natalia sneaks glances at me as I smile to myself. She seems fascinated to see me express emotion, given my deadpan front during our first meeting. Little does she know that she should be even more afraid of me when I smile.

When she has consumed just enough salmon to whet her appetite without slaking it, I gesture to a waiter to remove our plates. Without the distraction of food, Natalia hunches her bare, lightly freckled shoulders, occupying as small a space as possible. "Go ahead, Adrian," I say quietly. I know my old friend is fighting not to roll his eyes. He's far too busy for my theatrics, but he knows he can always rely on me for a good time.

He sighs, giving me one last are you sure? look, which I ignore. "Natalia Fiore," he begins quietly. "We would like to offer you a contract."