Mafia's African Rose

Heated lines

        My head throbbed as I sat up, trying to ignore the pounding headache. The result of too much drinking. I looked like hell, my eyes puffy and red. As flashes of last night came back, I cursed myself—Alexio. It was always him. I couldn't believe I had kissed him. I hated how I had thrown myself at him, only for him to pull back and wipe his mouth as though he was disgusted. The memory stung, and the humiliation washed over me again. Yet, even after all that, I couldn't forget the kiss, the feeling of being so close to him, even if it was fleeting.

I took a deep breath, scoffing at my own foolishness. This is the stuff of a Wattpad story, I thought bitterly, but mine isn't going to have a happy ending.

And what did it even matter now? A man had died last night because of me. I should feel guilty, horrified, something, but I didn't. Instead, I had kissed his killer. My thoughts spiraled, and I forced myself to snap out of it, focusing on something—anything—else. Alexa. I hoped she was okay.

Quickly, I got myself together and changed into one of the dresses Alexa had gifted me. A yellow, knitted mini-dress that hugged my body, stopping just above mid-thigh. The color was stunning against my skin, and the circle cut-out at my chest added a playful touch. I piled my hair into a messy bun, ignoring my still-puffy eyes, and went in search of Alexa.

After checking her room and not finding her, I made my way to the fourth floor where the boss's office was located. As I stood in front of his office, I hesitated, wondering if I should go in or wait. I knocked, but there was no response. Curiosity got the better of me, and I pushed the door open—only to be met with a sight that made my heart drop.

Cara and Alexio were entangled behind his desk, her moans filling the room as he fucked her from behind. I could barely see his face, but Cara's gaze found mine, and she smirked as if she'd won some twisted game. My chest tightened painfully as I quickly shut the door, stumbling down the stairs, my stomach churning. Why does it hurt so much? He wasn't mine. He'd never been mine.

In a daze, I wandered to the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water, ignoring the sneers from the maids. On my way back, I collided with a solid figure. My heart leapt, thinking for a moment it was Alexio, but it was Viktor, watching me with that blank, unreadable expression.

"You're unusually quiet today," he remarked, his gaze assessing me like a weapon he was deciding whether to use or discard.

Rolling my eyes, I didn't even try to hide my irritation. "Don't you have somewhere else to be?" I snapped.

He chuckled, clearly entertained. "Yeah, with Alexio. Have you seen him?"

"I'm not his keeper," I replied sharply, crossing my arms.

Viktor only smirked, ignoring my tone, and before I could say anything else, I noticed Alexio approaching from behind him. An idea—reckless and impulsive—sprang into my mind. Before I could stop myself, I wrapped my arms around Viktor, rising onto my tiptoes to reach him. He looked down at me, surprised, but didn't resist. I leaned in and kissed him.

It was different from Alexio's kiss—cold and distant—but Viktor's hands gripped my waist, pulling me closer. Suddenly, he was yanked away from me, and I looked up to see Alexio's furious face. He delivered a punch that split Viktor's lip, the crack of it echoing through the hall.

"You rascal!" Alexio's voice boomed, catching the attention of everyone nearby. Maids and men alike paused, eyes wide as they watched the scene unfold. I was frozen.

"What are you doing here, Viktor? You think you can walk in and out of my house whenever you please?" Alexio's voice dripped with venom as he landed another punch. Viktor held his ground, barely reacting.

Snapping out of my shock, I moved between them, feeling Alexio's seething anger wash over me. His gaze pinned me down, dark and dangerous.

"Step aside," he ordered, his voice chilling.

"No." I stood firm, my anger flaring, the memory of him and Cara still fresh and raw.

"Angel." His tone dropped, a low warning.

I swallowed but didn't budge. "No."

"It's okay, Angel," Viktor said behind me, his voice calm. "Step aside."

I shook my head, feeling a surge of frustration. "No, it's not your fault. I kissed you first." I turned to Alexio, meeting his dark gaze.

"And why are you so angry, anyway? It's not like I'm yours."

His silence was frightening, and everyone held their breath as he watched me, his jaw clenched. Then, finally, his voice cut through the tension.

"you're mine." He didn't give me a chance to react before he grabbed my arm, pulling me close as murmurs rose from the crowd.

"And Viktor," he growled, shooting him a deadly look, "we have unfinished business."

Viktor chuckled, defiant. "Now I understand what's gotten you so riled up. I have to admit, she's unforgettable."

Alexio's face hardened, and his hand reached for his gun. Viktor stood, unflinching, as if daring him to pull the trigger.

Leon appeared just in time, grabbing Alexio's arm, preventing him from doing something he couldn't take back. The tension was palpable, the crowd of onlookers silent and tense. An older man stepped forward, a look of fury in his eyes.

"Son, you've lost your damn mind," his father barked. When his eyes landed on me, I felt the full force of his disgust.

Alexio's grip tightened painfully on my arm. He glanced back at Viktor. "This isn't over."

Viktor's gaze met his, unafraid. "I'll be waiting."

    Without a word, he grabbed my arm, dragging me into my room before slamming the door shut. The force left me unsteady, and I barely had time to react as he shrugged off his suit jacket, his movements sharp and brimming with restrained fury. He looked like a man ready to lose control.

"You've got a thing for powerful men?" His voice was low, dark. "Then maybe I'll give you exactly what you want. I'll fuck every thought out of that pretty little head of yours until you understand who you belong to."

A jolt of fear mixed with a twisted excitement ran through me, and I hated myself for it. Why does he make me feel this way?

"Strip," he demanded, his eyes never leaving mine.

"What?" I whispered, my voice barely there.

"Don't make me repeat myself," he warned, his voice as cold as ice.

A anger surged within me, battling against the fear. "No!" I retorted, my tone coming out grumpy, but my heart was pounding.

His eyes narrowed, his gaze filled with a darkness that could swallow me whole. "Don't try me, Angel."

I let out a bitter scoff, the words spilling out before I could stop myself.

"I thought I didn't get you hard, remember? How are you planning to fuck me if I'm not even worth a kiss? You've made it clear I'm not good enough.

Why don't you go find someone who is?"

He went rigid, and for a split second, I thought he might actually hurt me. But instead, he stood still, just staring, his silence somehow more menacing than if he'd yelled. And yet, all I could do was continue, my anger taking over.

"Bet you enjoyed every bit of it," he said quietly, his voice barely audible but laced with an icy edge.

"And I bet you enjoyed every bit of Cara," I shot back. The words were out before I could even think, venomous and raw.

"Trust me, I enjoyed every second of kissing Viktor. At least he's not an arrogant jerk like you."

His expression shifted, something flickering behind those unreadable eyes. For the first time, I saw a hint of hurt—a crack in his perfectly guarded facade. He clenched his jaw, giving me a long, piercing look. Then, without another word, he turned and walked out, leaving me alone.

I stood there, a strange ache settling in my chest, regret mingling with a pain I didn't want to acknowledge. What have I done?

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