KING OF NEW YORK

CHAP 4. The New Heir of the Italian mafia

The mayor's office had never felt colder. Aïsha sat across from her father, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. The tension between them was palpable. Mayor Arish Sunak had pulled all the strings necessary to arrange the evening ahead - a carefully orchestrated dinner between his daughter and Lucas Materazzi, the man who held her father's fate in his hands. If the night went well, all of her father's corruption problems would disappear. But that came with a price: her hand in marriage.

"I don't want to be a pawn in this, Dad," Aïsha said sharply. Her voice was firm, her sharp mind already picking apart the plan that had been laid out for her.

"I know, sweetheart," Arish said, trying to soften his tone. "But you've seen the papers, you know what's at stake. Lucas can make all of this go away. And... he's interested in you. You might like him if you give him a chance."

Aïsha scoffed, not sure whether to be offended or amused. "A chance? He practically sent me a script of how this entire date is supposed to go."

Her father remained silent, knowing full well the depths to which Lucas had planned the evening. The restaurant, the dress - everything had been carefully dictated by Lucas Materazzi through his assistant, Danny. It wasn't a courtship, it was a transaction.
---
The soft glow of city lights cast a golden shimmer on the Manhattan streets as Aïsha Sunak stood in front of the mirror, staring at the dress that had been delivered to her earlier that day.
It was a deep emerald green, sleek and form-fitting - undoubtedly expensive, with a designer label that practically screamed exclusivity. But it wasn't the dress she had chosen. In fact, it wasn't even her style.
Lucas Materazzi had chosen it, along with the restaurant, the time, and even the manner of transportation. A black car with tinted windows had arrived precisely on schedule, driven by Lucas's assistant, Danny.
The whole evening had been orchestrated by Lucas down to the smallest detail, and Aïsha felt a knot of frustration tighten in her chest.She was no stranger to control. As the daughter of the mayor of New York, she had lived her life under the scrutiny of powerful men, all with their own agendas. But this - this was different.
Lucas wasn't just trying to control the evening; he was trying to control her. It was suffocating.Aïsha slipped into the dress anyway, if only to keep the peace, and mentally prepared herself for what was likely to be a tense evening.
Her father had arranged the dinner - a quiet negotiation masquerading as a date - to secure an alliance that would make all his problems go away. If everything went according to plan, Lucas would cover up the mayor's corruption scandal, and Aïsha would marry into the Materazzi empire
---

Lucas Materazzi stood in his penthouse, adjusting the cuffs of his custom-made suit. The restaurant was booked, the menu hand-selected, and he had even chosen a dress for Aïsha, a sleek, expensive gown that Danny had delivered to her earlier that day. Everything was planned to perfection, as Lucas liked it.

"Danny," Lucas said, checking his reflection one last time. "You made sure she got the dress?"

"Yes, Mr. Materazzi. She'll be wearing it tonight." Danny responded with the precision of someone who had been trained to cater to every meticulous demand of his boss. Lucas nodded, satisfied. This dinner was more than just a date; it was a negotiation. If Aïsha agreed to marry him, her father's problems would disappear, and Lucas would secure the political leverage he needed to fend off the Chang and Romanov families. But there was more to it. Since the night he'd first laid eyes on Aïsha, he hadn't been able to get her out of his mind. Her sharp wit and fierce independence had struck him in a way that no woman ever had.

This would be the perfect evening.

Or so he thought.

---

When Aïsha received the second dress earlier that afternoon, she almost laughed. It was stunning, yes - black, floor-length, with intricate detailing - but the idea that Lucas had chosen it for her made her feel trapped. Every detail of the night had been dictated, and she wasn't about to be swept into his perfectly curated fantasy without ruffling a few feathers.