Café Rouge is the small french cafe that Lola's father has poured his heart and soul into. She'd never thought, he'd acquired it through...darker means. The Italian mob to be more precise. Now it's collection time and Lola's paying the price. Trading herself for her father's life-Lola finds herself in the hands of the incredibly frustrating, confusing and very good looking mob son's boss-Carlos. She's convinced that with Carlos there's nothing more than what meets the eye; a cold-hearted, killer but could she be wrong? Warning: First chapter goes fast since it was taken from a One-Shot. I will be editing this along with the rest of the book much later so bear in mind the story does get better :)

His body was as powerful and sexual as I remembered it, he had gotten another tattoo on his shoulder since the last time, a few more scars then I remembered on his chest. His back rippled with muscles as he pulled on a fresh white shirt, my eyes transfixed as he took his time buttoning it up. Somehow it was almost more of a turn on watching him put on his clothes than him taking them off, almost. He wiped the blood off his hands with a kitchen apron in a slow steady motion and I pressed myself back against the wall when his eyes focused on me. My eyes flittered to the back door and I battled with myself on whether or not I could make it before he caught me, I couldn't. He tossed the apron over an empty sink and stalked towards me slowly, a predator in every sense of the word and my eyes drifted to the bloody mess of a man on the kitchen floor, was that going to be me in a second? He stopped just in front of me and reached out to stroke my cheek and I closed my eyes, leaning into his touch despite knowing better. My eyes snapped open when he grabbed my chin tightly and forced me to look at him, was this it, was he going to snap my neck and dispose of my body now? "Touch another man again, and I will kill you" his voice was low and promising and I swallowed as he let go of my chin, pressing a rough kiss to my lips before grabbing my elbow and dragging me out of the kitchen. So much for that arrangement...