Relationship Status: Mafia

Chapter 10

Alice POV

I feel like a damn fool dressed in the most uncomfortable attire known to woman-kind. I don't even want to think about the thong-its creates so many problems for me just to walk, plus these insanely tall shoes will be my death. On top of all that, the supposed-to-be mafia men ogled me unpleasantly. 

Never has anyone, or a man, for that matter, gazed at me the way Matsuo did. I still remember his brown eyes exploring my body as I stood before him. Boy, I wanted to knock his lights out, especially that jerk Zhen.

The car finally pulled away from Jade Palace and made our way down the city streets for a while. The thought of a meeting with the Italian mafia had me on edge, and I was highly anxious about this lunch meeting. I have been not-so-fortunate to arrive at crime scenes lying in the wake of those mobsters. The bodies were mangled beyond our forensics team's capability to identify the victims. It was just tragic.

Countless crimes, from shootings to drugs out onto the street and weapons distribution, covered New York City to New Jersey. I can't imagine the people we are about to see, probably the godfather smoking a cigar in his cozy crib and discussing business with Matsuo.

Matsuo, I think less of him now for associating with the Italian mafia; he's just as bad or even worse.

As soon as I'm free from the arrangement, I'm coming back for his ass and locking him up. I want to see Matsuo behind bars more than anything else.

The car slowed down soundlessly and pulled me out of my revenge-driven thoughts. I face Matsuo looking past him at a building. He opened the door, and I did the same.

"Cop," Zhen spoke lowly with his window down but still held venom in his voice, "don't do anything stupid. You know if you do anything to screw up this meeting, either the Italians or we will kill you."

I swallowed as I pushed down the tension and walked around the vehicle to meet Matsuo. Zhen pulled away, driving deeper into the parking lot packed with various luxury cars. My attention turns to the building that is a restaurant. I gaped at the exquisite establishment that seemed to radiate class.

Matsuo gave me a pointed look and reluctantly held out his elbow for me to take. Then, sensing my hesitancy, he leaned over right by my ear.

"Smile, you are my mistress," his mint breath traced the skin of my neck delightfully.

I take his elbow, placing my hand in the junction of his arm feeling it tense under my touch. Warmth flowed like a coursing river from our simple physical connection that is just me, a wreck of nerves going haywire. My pits are starting to sweat from the mental strain I am under.

Matsuo guided me from the welcoming courtyard to the entrance of the glass building. I felt out of place in a high-class joint such as this one. The fanciest place I ever dined in was an Olive Garden. If that place classifies as fancy. This restaurant is definitely out of my dining league based on my poor salary; I'd probably have to take out a loan to eat here. However, I would still be hungry after the pea-sized meal they served.

A young man with his dark hair slicked back greeted us with a smile. He greeted us from the hostess table, recognizing Matsuo immediately, and said, "This way, please."

We walked more like Matsuo strutted as if he owned the place exuding natural dominance that most men faked. The young man leads us to a table with the perfect view of the gardens. Our table was already occupied by a man and a woman whose backs faced Matsuo and me as we neared them.

They must be the Italians.

"A server will be with you soon." The young man announced, gesturing with his hands to our table.