Repaying the Mafia’s Dept

Isabella Oh my God… it’s him. It’s actually him. The man from the park.

He’s here, standing on the first floor balcony of the club and I’m just staring at him like I’ve never seen a man before.

Okay… that’s not quite right. I’m staring because I’m surprised to see him, and I’ve never seen a man as gorgeous as him before. I knew I wasn’t likely to forget his face. Even without feeling his penetrative stare on me moments ago, he has the type of face I would easily pick out in a crowd. Just like I am now.

Now I’ve seen him though I don’t know if I should say hi or leave.

It was embarrassing that we met because I was crying. What he said to me was sweet though. It was even sweeter for him to give me his flower. He didn’t have to be so nice.

I want to lift my hand and wave, but it feels like I should do more than that.

When he backs away from the balcony, I know I must do something. I can’t just sit here.

But, what if he’s here with someone? Like a girlfriend. I’d be surprised if he didn’t have a girlfriend. The way he was looking at me though suggests he might not.

I’m so silly, I can’t see him anymore. I’m sitting here thinking about what to do while he’s getting away.

Setting my unfinished drink on the counter I get up and make my way upstairs to look for him.

There are a few couples making out in the booths and some dancing around. I can’t see him though. I turn down the little path leading down to the other side of the dance floor and scan the area for him. If I came up the only other path, he would have gone down there. Or… maybe he’s behind me.

I turn and I see him standing over by the wall of the other bar. There aren’t many people there.

Sure enough, though, he’s watching me.

Pulling in a breath I make my way over to him, breaking another rule. One more rule to break tonight. When I’m out I break them all. I’m not supposed to talk to men, so I do. No one is supposed to touch me, so I touch.

I’m not a slut. I don’t sleep around, but with the life I live I can’t exactly have a boyfriend, so I’ve had a few one-night stands. And when I say a few. I literally mean three. With the life that awaits me there’s no way I’d be able to see a man like this and speak to him. So, I’ll take the chance tonight.

Heat streaks through me when I get closer to him, the mysterious Italian Stallion who dazzles me even more now than he did the other day.

He looks taller now because I’m wearing my pumps. I place him at about six foot six, so to my mere five foot four he towers over me, even leaning against the wall.

Those eyes stare into me with desire I won’t resist and in the dim lights he looks just as striking as in the daylight.

“You following me, Bellezza?” he asks with a smile that’s just as devastatingly gorgeous as he is.

“Maybe.”

“Oh… I see. Buonasera signorina.” I like how he talks, swapping between Italian and English at intervals like it’s the norm.

I speak five languages, so I understand him perfectly.

“Buonasera signore, in Russia we say dobryy vecher.”

“Is that where you’re from beautiful?” he asks and my mouth goes dry.

He’s charming, effortlessly charming. He doesn’t have to try either. I can tell charm comes naturally to him. This man could talk me out of my panties with just his smile. It’s a dangerous thought for me.

“Yeah. I am. I haven’t been there in a very long time though.”

“I’m from Sicily. Haven’t been there in a while either.” He looks me over and I don’t miss the way his eyes rake boldly over my body, and neither does my body miss the pull of the stimulus. “Are you here by yourself?”

“Yeah. I sometimes come here to hang out. Are you … here by yourself too?” I ask tentatively.

The last thing I’d want is for his girlfriend to come and ask me what I’m doing talking to her man.

“I am by myself. It’s a nice place to hang, and I guess to reunite with a beautiful woman you ran into in the park.”

I smile, liking him more than I should allow myself.

“You’re too kind, but I wanted to thank you again for coming over to help me in the park. I’m not usually like that. I don’t usually cry in public.”

“What are you like?”

His question throws me a little and I have to think of the answer. The answer to which is I’m a sheltered Bratva princess who lives under her father’s thumb. Never mind the fact that I’m supposed to be marrying a monster in less than six months.

So, what am I usually like?

“Happier…” I answer and I think he knows it for a lie. I guess it’s a half truth. I’m happier in my mind when I’m not thinking about my father and when I’m working.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“You look happy now,” he notes, and I resist the urge to laugh. Happiness is not what sent me out here in the night to seek a taste of freedom. “Is it okay now? I mean what made you cry the other day?”

I hate lies and I want to tell the truth, but I can’t. Half-truths are what I’ve lived on all my life.

“Not so much, but I feel better,” I answer and his gaze clings to mine. He looks at me like he can see what’s inside. I notice something in him too, something I recognize as the mask I wear to guard what I really feel. The pain I feel. He’s smiling though so I must be wrong. I’m not in the habit of asking a man out or anything like that, but I like talking to him and I don’t want to say goodbye yet.

“I wondered if it might be okay to buy you a drink,” I offer. “Just to say thanks.”

“A drink?”

“Yeah.” My cheeks flush when he intensifies his stare.

“Can I get the name of my damsel in distress before she buys me a drink?”

“Isabella. I’m Isabella. What’s your name?”

“Tristan.”

He looks like his name would be something like that. It’s strong and manly like it came from the old world. Like something from a Grecian play.

“Nice to meet you, again. Does that mean I can buy you a drink, Tristan?”

“It does, Isabella. Lead the way.”

I swallow hard, unable to believe my confidence with a man like this.

I do lead the way heading back downstairs to the bar area. We go where it’s quieter and he pulls a stool out for me to sit. He sits opposite me and the bartender comes over to take our orders.

“What are you drinking?” I ask Tristan.

“Water,” he answers with a cocky smile.

I laugh and he looks me over with fascination. I’m fascinated too at myself because I’m like a different person to the crying woman I was earlier.

Tonight, might very well be my last night of freedom with the way things are going, so I’ll laugh and enjoy the sound and I’ll smile and enjoy the way it feels to smile. And I’ll enjoy the company of this gorgeous man I’d never usually be speaking to in a nightclub.

“Water? That’s what you want? You don’t look like a water person. I was expecting you to order something stronger,” I say.

“What did you expect me to order, Bellezza?”

“Maybe… Something like…” I think for a moment and look at him, trying to guess his drink.

“Whiskey or scotch.”

“Hmmm, you’re close. Okay, let’s do this; I’ll tell you my drink if you dance with me.”

I bite the inside of my lip and glance out to the dance floor. It’s been so long since I danced with anyone. The last time was with Eric. We’d sneak away from everyone and go dancing. Since then if I ever come anywhere like this I just hung out by the bar or in one of the booths.

I look back to Tristan, my handsome stranger, and find myself nodding my head in acceptance.

“Okay, I’ll dance with you.”

The corners of his mouth lift into a smooth sexy smile that speak of wild sexual promises. It makes my mouth water. I’m inclined to think from that scandalous look in his eyes that he’s thinking of a little more than dancing.This content is © NôvelDrama.Org.

I am too and I can’t help it. I’m not sure who would be able to resist the thoughts I’m having of this man and with that pensive stormy gaze that could charm a nun out of her panties.

“V odka on the rocks,” he says to the bartender and I smile. “What about you?” he asks.

I shake my head. I had a cocktail. The last thing I need to be is drunk tonight. I need to get back to Sacha in one piece.

“I already had a drink and I have to drive back home. I’ll have water.”

He nods and the bartender saunters away to get our drinks.

“V odka on the rocks sounds like you,” I mutter.

“I think so too.”

Our drinks arrive and he takes a big swig of his then sets it back down on the counter. I drink all my water as it’s only a little glass. I expect him to drink more of his, but he stands and stretches out his hand to take mine.

“Time to dance, Bellezza,” he says.

I take his hand and allow him to lead me out to the dancefloor where the music envelopes us.

It’s a club mix I haven’t heard before, but smooth and sexy. The beat and the vibe make me move, but I watch him standing before me looking like the definition of perfection.

I might not have danced like this in a while, but my body remembers how to move. It’s not hard to get lost in the beat when he slips his arm around my waist and his fingers caress me, enticing me to move closer.

It’s not hard to get lost in him when I do move closer and we start dancing like we’ve done this a million times.

Christ… the man moves like he was born to dance. The rhythm flows through him and soon it flows through me too. I can’t resist the lure to move closer, be closer. So close my breasts brush over his chest and my nipples tighten painfully with need.

He turns me around so my back is to him and slips his arm around me. I wiggle my hips over him, moving the way he guides me and suddenly I can’t hear the music anymore. It’s just him and me and I know I can’t do this but at the same time I don’t want to stop either. I definitely don’t want to stop when he presses me to him, and I feel the bulge of his arousal pressing into my ass.

He holds me there like he wants me to feel it.

I turn my head to glance up at him. At that he twists me out of the beat then pulls me back so that my hands press against the hard steal walls of his chest.

My mouth waters at the feel of him beneath my fingertips and what springs to my mind when I think of what it would feel like to kiss him.

He leans close to my ear as the music dips low and his hot breath caresses my skin.

“Be careful, Bellezza, I may get the wrong idea if you look at me like that,” he warns.

“What idea?” I ask His cheek brushes over mine and we stop moving.

“You felt me Isabella. What ideas do you think I have when you dance with me like that?”

He moves back and smiles. I’m not sure what to say or do.

“I’m sorry,” I reply still unsure.

“Are you? Answer me truthfully.” That smile beckons me to be honest.

“No.”

“Then come here,” he says crooking his finger for me to come even closer than I already am.

I go to him like a puppet on an invisible string he commands.

When he moves to my lips I move too and as his lips touch mine, I feel alive. I wake up and every cell in my body comes alive.

My heart squeezes and expands with warmth as fire flicks over every nerve in my body.

When his tongue sweeps against mine I moan, and I truly forget everything. I forget that I’m Isabella Viggo and I feel just like a woman who’s kissing a gorgeous, sexy man who’s devouring her mouth.

When he cups my face, I savor the feel of his fingers on my skin.

We kiss and when the kiss turns hungry, he stops and stares down at me. something flashes in his eyes and he rivets his gaze to mine.

“Come home with me,” he husks.

Home… oh my… could I do that? I shouldn’t. It would have been easier to get away with hanging out for a few hours a few months back, but now I do have to be careful. Dmitri is unpredictable. That is why Sacha is so weary. I wouldn’t put it past him to go back to the house to screw with me, knowing it will piss me off.

I know I shouldn’t go anywhere with this man and I should say no. But somehow, I can’t quite form the words. Something draws me to him, and I don’t want to say goodbye yet.

“Do you want to?” he asks with a salacious smile, noticing my hesitation.

“Yeah,” I hear myself say. I’ve become a slave to my passions and if this is the last time I do anything like this, I choose him.

“Come then.”

He slips his arm around my waist and ushers me away from the dance floor.

We get outside to the parking lot and stop in between two trucks. His eyes look silver in the moonlight as he lowers to kiss me again.

I kiss him back loving the taste of him. I savor the rich masculine taste as he slips his hand behind my neck to deepen the kiss and that’s when I feel the sharp sting of something on the back of my neck.

Something… it feels like a bee sting and is so sharp I jerk back. It came from his hand.

What was that?

“Tristan… what…” My voice trails off as he blurs from my vision.

I stumble and my lips part as realization dawns on me.

He just gave me something and I can’t see properly… “What did you give me?” I mutter stumbling again. He steps closer and panic assails me.

I’m a fool. Oh God… what have I done?

I came out here for a break and this happens to me.

Suddenly I put everything in perspective.

He was in the park the other day and suddenly turns up at the club.

Coincidence? No.

In my world there are no such things. I’ve felt like someone was watching me for the last few days. Was it him?

He could only know where I was if he was watching me.

I’m not any old person. I’m Mortimer Viggo’s daughter. That is who I am, and my father has many enemies. There’s a reason why I’m always supposed to have my bodyguards with me. This is one of them.

I step back in an attempt to try and run away but I stumble. Tristan comes forward. He splits in two, three, then four and I look around frantically for some escape.

My legs feel like jelly. When I take another step my knees cave. He catches me.

“Don’t take me, please…” I beg, but my voice comes out a whisper.

I think of Sacha. Sacha will suffer for this. I can’t even think of myself.

“Please don’t take me. Please … people will die.”

“Mne zhal’,” he says.

He’s sorry?

So am I.

Everything goes dark and the darkness takes me.