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Who is He?

Angel's POV

I look into the crowd, there he is again.

Every night this week, the tall handsome stranger has been seated at the same table. He watches me, while sipping one of Zee's famous whisky mixes. His expression never changes and he never speaks, at least not to me.

I've tried to ignore him but there is something seductive about him. Maybe it's the way his dark hair curls around his ears, like little wings. Or maybe it's the dark perfectly round freckle on his right cheek. Or maybe it is the way his jaw looks as if it has been carved right out of a block of stone. Perfectly chiselled. Like art. It is so sharp that as much as I want nothing more than to run my finger along its edges I would be afraid it would cut the skin wide open.

When I am performing I try my best to make sure he doesn't catch me looking at him but he never takes his eyes off me, making it a little difficult. I have been caught on a few occasions and have looked away immediately or nonchalantly started biting my lip as if I couldn't care less.

"Hey, Girl. Don't let Kimber see you eyeing that fella, he ain't nothing but trouble. Trust me," Steff says as I make my way off stage.

I shrug her off with the biggest smile I can muster, "ah mind your own potatoes. I can handle him."

"It's your funeral," she laughs as she takes the stage after me.

Honestly, what kind of nickname is 'Babylove', anyway. I hope she trips on her dress. The nosy bitch.

And trouble? PLEASE! I can handle a little trouble. After all, Zee taught me everything I know.

Fresh from the stage I make my way towards the bar in search of a drink. Though the basement bar is dark I can still make out the shadows of our regulars as they drink the night away.

I look towards his table but he is gone. His chair is empty. Nothing but a hollow glass and a half-used book of matches from 'The Dolettes', remain on the table.

His absence makes my heart instantly drop. I don't know what I was hoping for but clearly, this wasn't it.

I look up at the bar and see a man standing there talking to Zee. He is well dressed, and not too dissimilar to the stranger that has occupied my thoughts for days, although I know him well enough to know that it's not him.

Preoccupied with my thoughts I don't notice the hand that pulls me gently towards the booth at the edge of the stairs until it's too late. I grab hold of the railing to steady myself and come face to face with the stranger for the first time.

Staring into his hazel eyes I begin to speak, "how did you--

"--Shh!" he whispers, putting his index finger to my lips to hush me. "I know everything Baby Dol, or should I call you Lucy? Lucy Luciano?"

Although he pronounced it wrong, he was right.

My heart tensed up at the sound of his voice, how did he know my name?

Who is he? What is his name?

I try not to give him any indication that he intrigues me. I refuse to give him the satisfaction- just the way that Zee taught me.

I playfully tease my tongue over my lips as I stare him in his eyes. I notice they have become darker in colour, turning dark brown as opposed to the hazel they were a moment ago.

Teasing him, I lean over. I'm so close I can smell him. I make sure to drink it up, my senses are in overload – damn he smells good.

"It's pronounced Lu-CHI-ano," I whisper firmly in his ear. His jaw clenches in reaction to my voice.