----- In serious need of revision! ----- Wanna-be journalist Kate Santoro would do anything for the scoop. Anything. Including finding her way into an underground club exclusive to only those in the Genovese mafia and the beautiful women they employee. What could be more perfect? She would stick to the shadows, snap a few videos, and write the biggest story New York has ever seen, therein making her a legend! Easy as pie. Until she gets found. A series of blatant lies and lucky breaks later and she is mistaken to be one of the workers underneath. While many might be terrified of this predicament Kate couldn't be more excited. The freedom to roam the area and talk to the members of the infamous brotherhood will leave no rock unturned. All she has to do is keep her cover until the night is over and the workers go home. What a fantastic position she is in! There are just two problems. One being him. Alessio. The Don, the Godfather, the Capo di tutti capi (the boss of bosses) who has taken a keen interest in Kate. Even that is something she could probably handle for one night. Except problem number two. They don't leave. Not at the end of the night, the end of the week, or even the end of the month. Alessio's interest in Kate threatens to expose her, something she would surely die from. He knows she doesn't belong but it's not as though she could have just waltzed in, right? By the time Kate realizes that not even the greatest scoop is worth the price, she is in far too deep to call it quits now. ~~~Praise for When The Sun Goes Down~~~ Natasha427: "It was so captivating that I may or may not have spent the last several hours holed up in my room frantically scrolling down to read more. I LOVED IT!" uninteresting17: "You're my soulmate. I love just everything about your writing." Daisy_Blue: "Has anyone seen my heart? It seems to have been ripped out and tossed across the ocean." NaughtyPlease: "I am beyond obsessed with this piece of literature heaven!!!"

"I can't be with you." I whispered, tracing my hands down his arm. The blank stare he gave me was clear that he was trying to stay strong. He hated showing his feelings and I knew that he did. "Why?" His deep voice cracked. The French accent I grew to love seemed as if it had faded along with his emotions. "We don't come from the same community," Tears trickled at the corner of my eyes. "You're from the richest family in LA and I'm just a transfer from Colorado. I'm in the middle class and for crying sakes, I'm black. You're white and we just don't mix." I lied and with every word my heart broke a bit more. "Does that really matter?" He stepped dangerously close to me. His hot breath fanning down my face now as we locked eyes. His beautiful green eyes staring down at me. I nodded. "Can I tell you something?" Once again I nodded, feeling slightly dumb for repeating the same actions. "I'm in love with you Milan Foster."