Craving the Mafia Prince

Chapter One | Rising Heat

The sun hung like a merciless eye in the sky, its heat beating down on the city of New Lestead as if it sought to burn everything in sight.

The scorching afternoon almost changed my mind seconds after I stepped out of my Audi A4. Sweat instantly formed on my forehead, and I could feel the heat seeping through my clothes, sticking the fabric to my skin. Did my best friend outweigh the risk of getting barbecued under this hot sun? Maybe not. But then again, I wasn't the type to walk away from a challenge. Right now, the challenge was to reach the entrance of the hotel without melting into a puddle.

I winced when my fingers brushed against the hot metal of the driver's door, quickly pulling my hand away to check for any signs of charring or blisters. There should be curfews on days like these. The idea of retreating to the comfort of my air-conditioned car briefly crossed my mind, but I shoved it aside. I wasn't about to back down now.

Shutting the door with a determined slam, I retrieved my mother's Cartier shades from my bag, slipping them on to save myself from going blind. The sunglasses had been a temporary loan, or so I told myself. I had them for three months now. They had become a permanent fixture, the rest of my meticulously chosen collection abandoned. I had intended to return them last week, but the relentless heat wave that had gripped the city made the thought of parting with them unbearable. Did I steal them? No. Stealing wasn't the right word. Borrowed felt more appropriate, even if it was indefinitely. I decided I would hold onto them. Or at least until mother dearest realized they were gone.

The walk through the parking lot was like a journey through a furnace. As I walked, I noticed a boy, no more than five, drop his ice cream. I nearly gasped as the creamy treat splattered onto the asphalt, sizzling and bubbling as it evaporated into a white puddle in a matter of seconds. My eyes widened and pace quickened. Realizing that global warming was a critical issue, I cursed myself for not wearing sunscreen. I was sure the fine hairs on my arm would catch fire if I lingered under the sun any longer.

By the time I reached the entrance of the hotel, I felt as if I had survived a trial by fire. Once shielded from the carcinogenic heat, I scan my surroundings. The building loomed before me, the word 'Maximum' spelled out in elegant cursive above the door. I climbed the short flight of stairs leading to the humongous, spotless glass doors, my red-bottom heels clicking against the white marble tiles. The sound was a sharp contrast to the oppressive heat outside, and I found some small comfort in it. At the landing, a young, muscular security guard stepped forward, blocking my path.

"Good afternoon, ma'am. The ceremony is at 6 p.m. tonight. I'm afraid entry isn't possible at the moment," he said, his voice polite but firm.

"Oh, I'm not here for the inauguration." I clarified, taking off my shades and hooking them over the front of my white shirt. "I'm here to meet a Mr. Conrad." I checked the text on my phone, sent by Leah, my best friend and business partner.

"Ah, yes, ma'am. I apologize. May I get your name and some identification, please?"

"Of course." I forced my lip balm-stained lips into a thin smile and dug into my purse, pulling out my license. How long do I have to stand in this heat? I dabbed a tissue onto my sweaty forehead as I handed the ID to the guard. The name tag pinned to his shirt read 'Kline' and he took his time verifying my identity, much to my growing impatience.