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The temperature chills a few degrees, and goosebumps scatter my skin as my brain starts to attach meaning to the conversation. My heart thunders in my ears as I put two and two together. The words ‘take care of him’... I know exactly what they mean.
Was the secretary an assassin? I thought they did hotels and casinos? Or was he a shady businessman?
Before I can duck into the corner, Elio’s eyes snap to mine.
For a second, the world seems to move in slow motion as his gaze pins me in place, and he starts taking long strides towards me.
When he reaches me, he tilts his head with a frown, clear irritation dancing across his face.
“Haven’t they taught you how rude it is to eavesdrop?” he says with a demanding voice.
“Unless you’re eager to pick up where we left off the other night?”
Chapter one
Aria
One Week Before The Corporate Gala
In my world, there are two groups of people. The ones who abide by the law and the others who do not. Within ten seconds of seeing him, I know which category he belongs to.
Elio Donatelli.A reputable businessman at the top of his game. Everybody knows the name of the man who owns major establishments in New York. But that’s not what draws me to him.
It’s the way he carries himself… the way he commands every room he steps in with his unmistakably strong presence, and without the need to even say a single word. And it’s the way his dark eyes, hot and intense, contrast strikingly against his greysuit. I can tell his muscles are ripped from how they flex under the expensive material.
I don’t know him on a personal level, but his face is all over social media. The country’s most sought after bachelor and businessman.
Now that I am seeing him in person, I realize their comments haven’t been an exaggeration. I’m trying hard not to stare, but from what I’ve seen, there are flecks of grey in his cropped, black hair and goatee beard. I remember, according to the news, he’s forty-five years old.
How the hell is such a strikingly attractive man in his forties?
I shake my head and revert my attention away from him. All my life, the only thing that mattered to me above all else was the law. I live and breathe it.
When you have a father like mine, you become exposed to how cruel the world can get if there is no authority to keep it in check. Then, when you have your brother mysteriously murdered, it becomes your drive to serve justice to the culprit.
This means I have no time for men. But this man, in all his god-like glory in front of me, seems different. I just know it. Suddenly, I find myself imagining how his huge hands would feel around my neck—choking me while he whispers sweet nothings to me.
Fuck! This is not like me at all. I’ve spent all my twenty-two years avoiding the distraction that men are and focusing on my quest for justice. All these years of celibacy might be getting to me.
“Anymore staring and you’re going to be shooting lasers from your eyes.”
I turn and see my father, champagne in hand. I’ve only just come in time for the award ceremony and haven’t had the chance to talk with him yet. He totally seemed to be enjoying himself as he was doing a subtle dance in collaboration with the classical music emerging from the orchestra when I walked in.
“I was just lost in thought.” I clear my throat and break my lips in a smile, hoping he doesn’t see past my façade. Honestly, for someone in his late fifties, he quickly catches on. Maybe I owe this one to shamelessly staring at the subject of my imagination; either that or Dad just usually seeing through my bullshit.
“Is it work?” He follows my line of sight. “Though I think that’s not the case.”
Touché.
“Congratulations on your promotion,” I ignore his question and try to distract him, taking his arm and leading him away from the sinful distraction that’s only a couple of feet away from me. “Deputy Chief.”
Thankfully, the distraction works...for both of us.
The sides of his mouth pull into his familiar bright smile, and the corners of his eyes crinkle. “It’s going to take some time to get used to that title.” His words come out in a breath as he stares at me.
Tilting my head, I want to joke about how he’s humbly bragging when I see the glimmer of doubt in his eyes.
“Dad,” I start tentatively, furrowing my brows but still keeping my smile so that it doesn’t feel confrontational. “Why?... I mean, if anyone is deserving of that position, it’s you.”