Chapter 1

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( Chapter Pr)

I stand deserted at the edge of the dining area, a place often filled with the chitter-chatter of several guests is now drowning in the sheer tranquility of the atmosphere.

It's a dangerous calm, and I'd rather be engulfed in everyday clatter, at least that would provide me with some sense of normalcy.

From afar, I peek at the company we have been enlightened with. The entire country has been plagued with rogue men. But they aren't that. One look at the blue-eyed man, and I can tell it's more.

I can see the tattoos slither from under the collar of his white undershirt. Intricate patterns with tales untold, secrets unshed. His tan skin is plastered with dainty ink, and I can't help but wonder how far down they go.

Given the dangerous aura, the hawk-like eyes and the oozing power combined with a rugged charm. This man is dark royalty. He's part of the Mafia, a made man indeed.

But how far is he involved, and how deep will he pull me in?

I find myself standing at the corner like a child on penalty, biting my lips harshly, as if that's the only thing that can save me. With the salt and napkins in my serving tray, I fail to fathom how one can need this odd combination.

If you ask me? I could spend an eternity standing in this corner than confront myself with his presence. But he has something different outlined, and even fate doesn't stand a chance.

Not when he's calling out to me.

" Come. " His deep voice rumbles and the commotion breaks. His voice works like an ancient spell and my legs walk on their own.

Lost in a dark trance, I find myself standing right infront of him. Was it charm or terror? Was it the dominating aura, that left no question to be asked.

Or was it the mere act of questioning that led me here?

I'd rather be dead than be here. I tell myself. But all thoughts seem to forsake that. Because if given the choice, I might just choose to live if he simply lets me sink into the depth of those ocean eyes.

With the nudge of a throat, I'm brought back to reality. It's sourced from the third man.

" Your order. " I mutter, looking down now.

Eye contact is a dangerous thing.

I place it ever so gently on their table, positioning my body as far away, stretching my arms to cover up the distance.

It's like I'm trying to maintain my distance, but not from the old man but from someone far more precarious.

" So, should I consider the deal finalized. If you let me oversee the drug trade of the northern region, I'll let you keep 50 percent of it. " The old man offers.

I try to mute the information out. The less I know, the better.

" After Giovanni's assassination, I'm your strongest contender. Mr. Rossi will find this the most beneficial." The piglet adds with a hint of arrogance.

" He will, Makrof. " The blue eyed man agrees, putting on the perfect smile and letting it betray the eyes of the piglet.

His hawk like eyes reflect to me a predatory instinct, and all I see in them is a blaze strong enough to scorch the world. But one look at the practiced smile, and I'm questioning my own thoughts.

His body posture seems relaxed and he extends a friendly warmth, momentarily of course.

Because the next moment, his eyes drop dangerously dark. He sits up from his relaxed posture, the two legs that laid smooth now bend around the knee cap as he tilts his head forward. As if letting us all in on an open secret.

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