Pursuing You - A Mafia Romance | 18+

2. The Shock

I enter the fancy car without thinking much. It's probably some rich, old dude from earlier.

This is pretty typical - they try to follow you home after a show in hopes of having sex with you. And I know exactly how to deal with situations like these.

But I only realize who the person is when I sit down and look at him.

He indeed is rich and from earlier. But he isn't old - he is pretty young - 27 if I had to guess.

In front of me sits the Mafia Don himself, Enzo Vittori. Wow. I must have some deep connection to this guy for seeing him twice now.

Oddly enough, I'm pretty calm as I sit across from him.

I'm not scared.

I'm not shivering.

I'm not nervous.

I'm calm.

The man comfortably leans in his seat. His legs are spread wide, making him look intimidating.

The buttons of his black shirt are hallway open, allowing me to look at his tattoo-covered chest. A gold chain hangs from his neck - there is a locket of some kind, but I can't actually see it.

He takes a sip of whiskey as his eyes shamelessly glance up and down my body. But like I already said, I'm used to stares like these.

But, what I'm not used to is the Mafia Don inviting me into his limousine. Why am I here?

Do I wait for him to speak? Do I speak? Or are we just going to stare at each other like this? Wait, what if I wasn't supposed to get in in the first place? What if-

"How much would you take for a night?" Enzo asks, not parting his gaze from my legs. I blink a few times at his voice - I thought his voice would be... rough. But his voice is deep and soothing. And somehow hypnotizing.

"Excuse me?" I ask, not understanding his point.

"How much money would you take to dance like that on me?" He repeats himself, a bit harsher this time. But I don't flinch. I'm too shocked to even feel something else.

He wants me to dance for him. The famous Italian Mafia Don Enzo Vittori wants me to dance for him.

I gulp, not knowing what to say. The man hasn't given me the option to reject his offer. He straight up just asked me to tell him my price. He better pay me big.

Enzo looks at me, raising an eyebrow as if telling me to just say a number. And I do exactly that, "Five million," I answer, feeling like I'm about to get thrown out of the car for saying such a huge amount. But to my surprise, the Mafia Don chuckles, "That's all, bellissima? Are you that cheap?" He conveys. My jaw drops to the floor - he thinks five million dollars is cheap. I can't believe it. But then again, he is THE Mafia Don - he has the money.

And should I feel insulted? Did he just insult me as cheap? Only if he knew that I'm the most treasured stripper at Delusion.

"I'll pay you the double, ten million. Maybe even twenty million, depending on how well you do it and how obedient you are." Enzo licks his lower lip, making me look at it.

"Are you willing to do this?" He stares deep into my eyes, and I know he knows the answer. That little smirk on his lips and the confidence in his eyes tell me that.

No matter how tired I am or how dangerous this man actually is, I can't bring myself to reject this offer. I can't bring myself to say no to him. It's not that I'm scared of him - it's his enchanting aura. It makes me want to agree with all he says. And the money, obviously. I'm doing it for the money...

I bite my lower lip to kill a bit of time and make it look like I'm thinking about it. I don't want to come off as desperate. "Deal," I answer, making him tug his lips upwards.

Oh, my God. It's happening - I'm going to dance for the Mafia Don and probably die if he doesn't like it.

"My chauffeur will pick you up tomorrow night. Be ready." Enzo says in a stern voice.

Wait, what?

"You don't want the private dance now?" I ask, confused.

He chuckles, slowly shaking his head, "You look tired, bellissima. Take a rest - you have a big day tomorrow," he winks at me.

What the hell? You are telling me that this man invited me in his car to freaking fix a dance for tomorrow?

"Can you at least drop me off?" I plead. Yeah, there is no way I can still catch a taxi, and there is no way I would walk home now.

The Mafia Don chuckles, "We already are in front of your apartment, tesoro. Look outside." My eyes widen at his words, and I look out the window. My jaw drops - we are indeed in front of my apartment building. When the hell did the car even move? No fucking way.

"See you tomorrow," he says before his chauffeur opens the door for me.

"Yeah... see you... tomorrow..." I get out of the car, feeling lightheaded.

I look at the building in front of me - It is my apartment building, no doubt about that. But something sends a chill down my spine. I turn around, "How do you-" The door closes, and the car drives off into the night. "know where I live?" I whisper to myself as I get goosebumps.

He knows where I live. If shit goes down, he knows where I live. I gulp at that.

I have to be careful.

As the doors of the elevator open, I see a beautiful golden box placed in front of my door. But I don't think much of it. My neighbor, Tom, is a regular customer at Delusion, and he leaves little gifts for me. Mostly, they are disgusting - handcuffs, sex toys, etc. But on second thought, this box looks way too expensive for someone like Tom to afford.

I sigh and pick up the box, taking it with me into the apartment.

"Dear Tom, what is it this time?" I sarcastically say as I grab the scissors to open the box. Not going to lie - I don't expect anything good.

Embracing myself for the worse, I open the box. To my surprise, there isn't anything disgusting in it - On the contrary. The box contains the most beautiful red lingerie I've ever laid my eyes on. I admire the set, holding the bra against my chest in the mirror to see how it would look on me.

Then, I pick up the card that's in the box and read it.

From E.V.

That's all the card says. I furrow my eyebrows, E.V.

Then something clicks - Isn't that the name Laura said? - The guy that wanted to have a private dance? But what does E.V. stand for?

I think for a while as I stare at the card in my hands.

Enzo Vittori. E.V. stands for Enzo Vittori.

Now, I don't know if I should be concerned about the fact that he knows where I live and that he left me a little gift. And that I have to dance for him tomorrow just puts the cherry on top.

But, if I'm getting paid, I guess it's going to be worth it, right?