Silk & Steel: A Mafia Romance | ENGLOT

Chapter 30: My Kind of Night

Wyvern/Enna's POV:

The hushed murmur of the excited crowd filled the air as I took my seat next to Contessa. The lights dimmed, plunging the grand theater into a sea of anticipation. A mischievous glint danced in Contessa's eyes, her smile mirroring the nervous flutter in my stomach. Tonight wasn't just about the play, a modern adaptation of A Midsummer Night's Dream. It was our second date, a chance to build on the spark that had ignited between us.

Contessa, a vision in her sleek black dress, leaned closer to me. "So," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the soft murmur of the crowd, "are you a fan of Shakespearean comedies?"

I chuckled, leaning in to meet her gaze. "Honestly? Not particularly. They always seemed a bit... convoluted."

Contessa's smile widened. "Well, this one's been adapted for a modern audience. Think mistaken identities, love triangles, and a generous helping of chaos."

"Sounds intriguing," I murmured, a playful glint in my eyes. "Just my kind of night then."

The first act unfolded, a whirlwind of witty banter and mistaken identities. Contessa, usually so composed and focused, found herself captivated by the playful chaos on stage, her laughter echoing softly in the darkened theater. As the actors delivered their lines with perfect comedic timing, I couldn't help but steal glances at Contessa, her smile infectious and her eyes sparkling with delight.

During the intermission, the lobby buzzed with conversation, the play sparking lively discussions about love, fate, and the power of dreams. Contessa and I found a quiet corner, the comfortable silence between us a stark contrast to the vibrant energy around us.

"I'm surprised," I admitted, taking a sip of my drink. "You seem to be enjoying this more than I expected."

Contessa arched an eyebrow, a playful smile gracing her lips. "And what did you expect, Wyvern? That I'd be bored out of my skull?"

I laughed, the sound rich and warm. "Maybe a little. You always strike me as more of a... classic literature kind of girl."

Contessa feigned a gasp. "Classic literature? Moi? Perish the thought! Though," she added with a wink, "there is something undeniably charming about watching grown men dressed as fairies bumble around the stage."

A snort of laughter escaped my lips. "There is that," I conceded, wiping a tear from my eye. "But seriously, I'm glad you're having fun."

Contessa's smile softened. "Me too, Enna," she murmured, her voice barely a whisper. "More than you know."

The second act flew by, the play reaching its comedic climax. As the curtain fell to thunderous applause, I turned to Contessa, a mix of amusement and something deeper swirling within me. The shared laughter, the stolen glances – it all felt like the beginning of something real, something exhilarating.

"So," I began, my voice husky with unspoken emotions, "what did you think?"

Contessa's gaze held mine, her eyes sparkling with unspoken desires. "It was... magical," she whispered, her voice barely a murmur. "Almost as magical as this evening."

...

Stepping out of the grand theater, the cool night air washed over us, a welcome contrast to the warmth of the auditorium. The city lights twinkled above, mirroring the electricity that crackled between Contessa and me. 

"So," Contessa said, her voice playful, "what do you say we grab a bite to eat?  My stomach is starting to rumble in protest."

I chuckled, the sound rich and warm.  "Sounds perfect.  Any particular craving?"