50

Synopsis
Our first meeting was at a nightclub, and it was something straight out of my most romantic fantasies.
My ovaries exploded at the sight of the Russian God. And by God, I mean he was ripped, tall, dark, and deadly attractive. There were enough sparks between us to light up a city.
Then an explosion blasted through the nightclub, and we got trapped together for three hours, sharing our most personal details… everything but our names.
Two years later, our second meeting is the complete opposite of the first. It’s clear Misha Petrov, a Russian enforcer for the bratva, despises me. The emotional night we shared meant nothing to him.
You see, my family is sworn enemies with the bratva and Italian mafia, which means Misha considers me a threat.
I wish I could hate him the way he hates me. But nooo, my stupid heart wants what it wants.
Every rough touch from Misha makes my skin tingle.
Every low-rumbling threat growled through his clenched teeth has my breath speeding up.
We might be sworn enemies, but I can’t stop myself from wanting this dangerous man.
Then there’s the other problem.
If I can, by some miracle, get Misha to fall in love with me, we’ll only have to face the entire bratva and my family.
What could possibly go wrong?
Chapter 1
Aurora
Misha Petrov; 22. Aurora D’Angelo; 18.
“Abbie, wait for me,” I whisper-hiss as I grab hold of my best friend’s arm just as we’re about to enter the popular nightclub she’s dragged me to. “Don’t you dare leave me alone.”
Abbie lets out a burst of laughter, playfully rolling her eyes at me. “Like I’d ever do that.”
She takes hold of my hand, and I stick close to her as a bouncer allows us to enter. We’re met by a lady who’s dressed in a black silk top and pants, her blonde hair twisted up in a perfect bun.
She gives us a professional, welcoming smile while she checks our IDs, then waves us toward the lower level where we have to push through the crowd already in full party mode.
“Damn, this place is packed,” I have to shout so Abbie can hear me. “You weren’t joking when you said it’s popular.”
Abbie leans closer. “Hopefully, the VIP section won’t be as busy.”
Nodding at her, I grip her hand tightly, so we don’t get separated in the madness. It looks like every single person in Geneva is at the nightclub.
I’ve always suffered from claustrophobia, and being bumped and shoved by random strangers is not my definition of fun.
This is my first time at a nightclub, and it’s only because of Abbie that I’m here. My parents think I’m safely at her house, and so do my bodyguards, who are probably still standing guard outside Abbie’s suite at the Sartori vacation mansion.
My parents reluctantly agreed that I could visit Abbie for a week before Easter. Because my parents know the Sartoris, I was only given two guards. Abbie has sneaking out down to an art form, though, and she made it look so easy to escape my ever-present guards.
With curious eyes, I take in everything around me. The club’s interior is dark, with colorful, strobing lights pulsing to the fast beat filling the air. There are bars on either side of the huge dance floor, with bartenders rushing to fill the orders.
People are laughing and talking, and men are flirting with women. A big group dances in the middle of the room as if they have endless energy. It fills the atmosphere with an exciting vibe that’s infectious.
It’s surreal.
When we climb the stairs to the VIP section, fear spins in my stomach.
If my father finds out I’m at a club, there will be hell to pay.
He won’t find out. Chill.
Abbie smiles at the bouncer, who looks like a mountain of a man, then she says, “Sartori and D’Angelo.”
The bouncer’s eyes flick to me before he unhooks the heavy burgundy corded rope so we can enter the VIP section.
I know my family name carries a lot of power, but being away at a boarding school for most of my life, I’m not used to wielding it to get what I want. Now that we’re done with school, Abbie is adjusting to the socialite life quicker than I am.
Leaning into Abbie, I ask, “He won’t tell our parents?” She scoffs. “Of course not. Relax.”
Glancing around, my fear is quickly forgotten.
Oh wow, it’s much better in the VIP section.
Comfortable burgundy sofas and dark wood coffee tables fill the left side of the floor that’s bathed in luxury. There are potted plants and statues of cherubs and angels everywhere. The lights are dimmed, and there aren’t any strobing lights up here.
With the music coming from the lower level, the atmosphere up here feels intimate and not as chaotic. I can actually hear myself think.
“This is much better,” I tell Abbie as we walk to an available sofa.
Taking a seat on the expensive fabric, Abbie grins at me. “Don’t worry.
After a couple of drinks, you’ll be ready to hit the dance floor.”
“You know I can’t dance to save my life.” I let out a chuckle as I glance at the bar. The three bartenders are wearing suits, whereas the ones downstairs are dressed in black shirts and trousers.
Still worried my parents might find out about tonight’s escapades, I ask, “Won’t anyone recognize us?”
Abbie turns her body to face me, and gripping hold of my shoulders, she locks eyes with me. “Girl, we’ve been locked up in a Humboldt International School for girls in Austria. I seriously doubt people even know we exist. We won’t get a chance like this again, so chill and let your hair down.”
She’s right. Chances like this, to just blend in with everyday people – to be an ordinary eighteen-year-old girl – don’t come along often. Not when you’re the daughter of Caruso D’Angelo, one of Italy’s most notorious crime bosses.
“Okay,” I smile at my friend. “I’ll relax.”
“Drinks. That’s what we need.” She waves a hand in the air, and a server quickly comes closer. “Two cosmopolitans and two lemon drop shots, please.”
When the server leaves, Abbie grins at me. “I’ve had lemon drop shots once. You’ll love them.”
“And cosmopolitans?”
“My mom loves to drink them. You can hardly taste the alcohol.”
I force myself to unwind and shove away the fear of being caught. What’s the use of going through all the trouble of sneaking out if I’m going to ruin the night by worrying?
I glance down at the Dolce & Gabbana napa leather pants that fit me like a second skin and a silver, sequined crop top. Paired with my favorite Jimmy Choo silver shimmer, suede high heels. They always make my legs look longer than they are.
I set my crystal-embellished Bon Bon mini bag on the table and lean back against the sofa. “So we drink and dance?” Taking a deep breath, I glance at the various groups of people seated at other tables.
“And eye-fuck all the attractive guys. It’s time to let our hair down, and later we can check out the rooftop bar.” Abbie leans closer to me. “Ooh, the guy at two o’clock doesn’t look too bad.”
I glance at the man sitting at the bar, then scrunch my nose. “He looks like he’s in his thirties and drowning his sorrows.”
“So?” She gives me a mischievous grin. “Age is just a number, and I can make him forget about his problems.”
Laughing at my friend, who’s always been the brave one between us, I shake my head. “You’re incorrigible.”
She shifts into a comfortable position, her eyes scanning over the men. “One of these days, an engagement ring will be slapped onto our left hands for an arranged marriage. I want one night without any rules and obligations.”
I feel her words deep in my soul.
Abbie turns her light brown eyes to me. “If you could be anyone else, who would you be?”
I lift an eyebrow. “Anything besides a mafia princess?” “Yeah.”
The server brings our drinks, and as soon as he leaves, Abbie hands me one of the shots. “Think about your answer while we drink.”
My lips curve up, and I watch as she downs the alcohol. When she doesn’t pull a disgusted face, I swallow my shot.
The liquid is so sour I pinch my eyes shut, fighting and failing to keep from shuddering. “Oh, my God.” Another shiver ripples through me. “That’s sour as hell.”
Abbie’s laughter is filled with amusement, then she hands me the cosmopolitan.
“This better not be sour,” I mutter before I take a cautious sip. Flavors explode over my tongue, everything from cranberry sweetness to a slight lemon tartness. “Ooooh.” I give Abbie a smile of approval before indulging in another sip.
“Good. Right?”
“Yes.” I give the empty shot glass an unimpressed look. “But it’s a no for the lemon shots.”
She raises her cocktail glass to mine. “To one night of fun, freedom, and hopefully filthy hot sex.”
“From your lips to God’s ears,” I grin at her.
Not the sex, though. I’m sharing that with someone special and not a one-night stand.
After toasting, I set the glass on the table. “If I could be anyone in the world…” I let out a sigh, shaking my head. “Nah, I’d still choose this life. Because of it, I got you as my best friend.”
“Aww.” Abbie leans over, wrapping me in a tight hug. “I love you, my sweet friend.”
“Love you too,” I whisper, enjoying the emotional moment between us.
As I pull back, three men catch my attention. They’re all dressed in immaculate suits. I can feel the power and danger radiating off them, their steps sure and confident.
My fingers wrap around Abbie’s bicep, and I shake her. “Look at the three guys heading to the bar.”
Her head turns so fast it’s a miracle she doesn’t give herself whiplash. “Sweet. Jesus.”
“Uh-huh,” I murmur, my eyes stuck on one of the guys. Even with a three-piece, royal blue suit he’s wearing, I can clearly see he’s ripped, his muscles causing the fabric to strain. He’s the definition of tall, dark, and handsome.
“They’re all panty-dropping attractive,” Abbie says. “That’s it. I want a harem.”
A burst of laughter escapes me, and it has Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome’s eyes snapping in my direction.
The gut punch of his light blue eyes, locking with mine, knocks the air from my lungs.
Holy crap, he’s gorgeous.
I know gorgeous is not the right word to describe a man, but damn, he’s just… swoon-worthy gorgeous.
“Aurora…”
Those light blue eyes, paired with rich, dark brown hair, make him look downright godly.
Blue has always been my favorite color.
Hmm…Sharp and chiseled features. Solid, square shoulders with a broad chest that’s complimented by the vest he’s wearing.
My gaze slowly roams over every inch of him before resting on the light blue pools that can only be described as heavenly.
My heart is beating a mile a minute, and there’s a fluttering in my stomach.
“Aurora!” Abbie whisper-shouts, then starts to laugh as she grips my forearm, shaking me out of the trance I’m caught in.
Startled by the realization that I’ve unashamedly stared at the man, I turn my attention to my friend, my cheeks going up in flames.
“Jesus. The two of you practically undressed each other with your eyes.” She fans herself before downing half her drink.
Alcohol is a really good idea.
I grab my cocktail and try to drown my embarrassment with every last drop of the cosmopolitan. As I lower the glass from my lips, my tongue darts out to catch a stray drop. My eyes have a mind of their own because they lock onto Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome, only to find his gaze still zeroed in on me.
Dear Lord.
I’m slammed with an overwhelming self-conscious feeling and quickly look away from his intense gaze. I set the glass down and force my eyes to stay on Abbie.
“He’s still staring at me,” I whisper as if the man will be able to hear me above the music.
“I know,” she chuckles, a wide smile making her look stunning. Abbie’s whole face always lights up whenever she smiles. It’s one of the things I love most about her.
She waves a hand to catch the server’s attention and orders another round of cosmopolitans. Once the server is out of earshot, Abbie says, “Enjoy the attention, Ra-Ra.”
It feels like his eyes are still on me, and as I reach for my bag, my gaze flicks in his direction, only to confirm that I’m right.
I can only look at him for a couple of seconds before I chicken out again, and the flush on my cheeks deepens.
This is mortifyingly embarrassing and, simultaneously, so freaking alluring. I’m constantly torn between gawking at him and looking for a spot I can stick my head in to hide.
I glance at my best friend, and seeing how happy she is with the attention she’s receiving from the other two men, I have to admit it’s fun.
Allowing my mouth to curve into a shaky smile, I suck in a brave breath of air, then lock eyes with my tall, dark, and handsome man.
This time I’m rewarded with the left corner of his mouth lifting in a hot grin, followed by a slight dip of his head.
Dear God, don’t let my heart race any faster. I don’t want to die of a heart attack at eighteen…almost nineteen.
“It’s fun, right?” Abbie asks, then she holds her drink up in the direction of the three men, giving them her prettiest smile.
“Yeah,” I agree. I look around the rest of the VIP section, trying not to come across as desperate for another glance at the gorgeous man.
But again, I fail, and before I know it, we’re locked in a heated stare. I swear on all that’s holy, there are enough sparks flying between us to light up an entire city.