Until I breathe | 18+

Nine- Not again

Lily

I lounge in the plush velvet booth, my slender fingers wrapped around the chilled martini glass. I feel relaxed and content.

Then, the air shifts. The crowd parts, and He walks in. The notorious mafia heir commands attention, his presence radiating ruthless power, in black jacket and denims. Chiseled features, piercing blue eyes - granite-hard.

"What is this bastard doing here?" I mutter to myself, eyes narrowing.

Does he have a death wish? Or does he think he owns this place too?

By his side, a younger version of himself walks with quiet confidence, with the same piercing gaze but with softer features. His dark hair is styled in a charming mess, and his smile hints at rebellion.

My eyes narrow, mind racing. His arrival is never coincidental, he always has an agenda. I watch, more like observing, as they claim the VIP section.

Ugh, seriously? He thinks he can just waltz into our territory after what happened this morning? And his violent touch still lingers on my mind, like a branding iron.

I recall the morning's events. You think you can disrupt my peace? Think again. My mind races with possibilities. What's his angle? Is this a power play?

Zyran, his younger brother, looks a bit uneasy, Like he doesn't want to be here, glancing around like he's waiting for an ambush. Smart kid.

While,he on the other hand, exudes confidence, like he's untouchable. Well, newsflash, Ayren: you're not.

I keep my gaze steady, focusing on the swirling liquor in my glass, pretending his arrival doesn't faze me. But I realize how careful I need to be instead.

He weaves through the crowd, his broad frame parting the sea of people with ease. Zyran remains in the VIP section, watching with an intensity that makes me wonder what's going through his mind.

He stops in front of me. I refuse to give in, keeping my eyes downcast. He sits beside me, his weight sinking into the plush velvet. The scent of his mild cologne wafts over, familiar and unsettling.

I am enveloped by his refined, sophisticated scent of mild lavender and crisp bergamot with violet leaf's powdery softness. This is the first time I'm actually paying attention to his cologne, as before I am more consumed by the anger or surprise to take in details. His scent doesn't smell like some renowned fragrance from any brand. Rather it's a new kind of fragrance, more like a customized, personal one. Like tailored specifically for him.

"Lily," he whispers, low and smooth.

I finally meet his gaze, my expression a mask of indifference. I nearly forget how attractive he is,dripping with charm and beauty, muddied by his beastly nature. Why does he have to be so infuriatingly handsome? Ugh! Hate myself for even noticing it more than acknowledging it. But what greets me is worse, a dash of sadistic blue stares me down, like my own prayed-for-it-curse "What brings you to our territory?"

His eyes crinkle at the corners as he smiles. "Just enjoying the nightlife."

This bastard knows how to use his charm at its best. An illusionary charm that he wears like a permanent mask.