No one told me revenge had a dress code or that mine would come soaked in blood and secrets.
*****
The black Lamborghini rolled to a smooth stop at the compound, the path ahead glowing with carefully strung lights. Enrico reached into the car's hidden compartment, pulling out a sleek thigh holster. He lifted Alessia's gown slightly and snuck it around her upper thigh.
Without a word, he slid in a small loaded pistol and a sharp-edged knife. Then he gently tugged the fabric of her dress back down, his eyes locking with hers.
"I've got enemies everywhere," he said. "But I won't let them touch you. I'll protect you, but you must protect yourself too, love."
"I understand," Alessia replied quietly. "Thank you for looking out for me."
"The people who killed your father... they'll be here tonight," Enrico added. "Stay close to me. And don't eat anything unless it comes from my hand."
She nodded as Enrico stepped out of the car, circled around, and opened her door. He helped her out, tucking her firmly into the crook of his arm as they headed toward the glowing reception hall.
All eyes turned their way.
Murmurs spread through the crowd, Dons and Donnas whispering, curious and suspicious. Alessia clung tightly to Enrico's elbow as they reached the entrance, where two broad-shouldered guards stood stiffly.
"Walk through the detector," one barked. "If you're carrying anything valuable, I suggest you take it out now."
Alessia looked up at Enrico. He gently released her hand and nodded for her to go first.
She stepped through the detector.
No beep.
She paused, confused, and turned to watch Enrico pass through just as smoothly.
"You're clear," one of the guards said.
"Thanks, boys," Enrico replied coolly, grabbing her hand once more as they moved inside.
She leaned in and whispered, "I had a gun strapped to my thigh. Why didn't it get detected?"
Enrico chuckled softly, taking two glasses of crimson wine from a passing waiter. He sniffed one, took a small sip, and handed it to her.
"Plastic," he said. "Harder for detectors to pick up. Low conductivity. Weak magnetic signature."
She sipped the wine, the rich flavour burning slightly down her throat. "You're too smart, Enrico."
He smirked. "Don't drink another. It's twenty-five per cent alcohol. You'll get drunk fast."
Sometimes, Alessia forgot how sharp he truly was. But the mafia world, his world demanded it. You had to be observant. Fast. Ruthless.
They moved across the room toward a table where Santiago Dera sat, a well-known Russian Don. Beside him sat a stunning, elegant woman named Neymar.
"Santiago," Enrico greeted coolly.
"Rosette," Santiago's eyes lit up. "Didn't think you'd show tonight. You've skipped every gathering since your mother's death."
Enrico raised his chin. "Thought it was time. Especially knowing the host is the one who murdered her. Might be the perfect night for revenge."
Santiago laughed deeply, but Enrico didn't flinch.
"You're insane," Santiago said. "But tonight's not the night."
Enrico clapped him lightly on the shoulder. "I might disagree."
Santiago's gaze shifted. "And who's the beauty beside you? Almighty Enrico never shows up with women."
Alessia bowed her head respectfully. Neymar leaned forward and pulled her into a soft hug.
"You've got pretty eyes," she whispered.
"Thank you," Alessia murmured, fingers clutching the hem of her gown.
"Meet the future Dona of the Rosette family," Santiago said. "You should show her the ropes, Neymar."
"Gladly. Maybe you'll come on a trip with her."
"Excuse us," Alessia said quickly, grabbing Enrico's arm and dragging him down a dim hallway.
"What the hell was that?" she snapped, her voice low and sharp.
Enrico grinned. "Relax, love. It's a party. Enjoy it."
"I'm not getting sucked into this mafia mess. Once I've paid off my debts, I'm gone. That was our deal. I'm never going to be your future Dona. Get that into your skull."
She turned to leave, but Enrico caught her arm, pulling her back and pinning her gently against the wall.
He ran his nail slowly along her side, lips curling into a hungry smirk.
"I like it when you're fierce."
His fingers traced the edge of her cleavage, drifting down to her hips.
She should have stopped him. But she couldn't. His touch was addictive.
He pulled her chest against him, unzipping a little of her dress, exposing one of her breasts. His hand lingered, teasing, grazing.
"Enrico… stop," she whispered, the protest melting into a breathy moan.
Why did he always feel like fire and danger combined?
"You've got everything I want in a Dona," he murmured. "You're not leaving. Ever."
"I need to speak to Santiago.Zip up and join me."
Then he let go and walked away.
Alessia exhaled shakily and rushed into the restroom. She shut the door behind her and slid down onto the tiled floor.
"What the hell are you doing, Alessia?" she muttered, slapping herself lightly.
She stood up just as the door creaked open.
Footsteps. Male voices. The click of the lock.
Pulling up her gown, she gripped the knife tightly and inched toward the back door.
"We know you're in here, Alessia," one of them sneered. "Show yourself. Let's make it quick. Enrico's about to meet your bloody corpse."
Stall doors banged open one after the other. Alessia crept toward the largest man, lunged forward, and stabbed him in the side.
He roared in pain.
Another chased her. She ran.
He grabbed her hair and slammed her head into the wall.
Pain exploded. Her vision blurred. Blood trickled down her face.
They tried dragging her across the floor, but she grabbed the wall's jagged edge. Gritting her teeth, she yanked up her gown, pulled the gun from her thigh, and cocked it.
Bang.
The first man collapsed, blood pooling beneath him.
The second roared and threw a knife.
It tore into her deeply. She screamed, blood soaking her sleeve. She raised the gun but he was gone.
Breathing heavily, she clutched her bleeding arm. Her gown was drenched. Her head spun.
"I need to get to Enrico…" she whispered.
A slow clap echoed.
"You're just as tough as I heard," a man said coolly. "Took one of mine down."
"Who sent you?" she shouted.
"You want answers?" He smirked. "Then survive."
"Bastard!" She pulled the trigger click. Empty.
She bolted for the back door.
Bang.
Pain exploded in her leg as a bullet ripped through the muscle.
"Shit!"
She ducked behind the wall, gasping. The door was locked. Her hands trembled. She tore the bottom of her gown, wrapping it tightly around her bleeding leg and arm. Her body was shutting down.
"Come out, Alessia," he called. "Let's end this."
His footsteps drew closer.
She pressed herself flat. Waited. As he stepped near, she sprang up, using the torn fabric to choke him from behind. They slammed into the floor, struggling. His strength faltered. She tightened her grip.
Bang.
Her body jerked. Heat bloomed in her stomach. Bloospilted from her mouth. His gun was still pointed at he r. She collapsed in his arms.
"I'm sorry, Enrico…" she gasped before blacking out.
"Such a pain in the ass," the man muttered.
He wiped his hands with a white scarf and tossed it on her face. Calmly, he pulled out his phone and walked toward the mirror.
"It's done. I'll dispose of the body once I get the final payment." He hung up and pocketed the phone.
Dropping the gun onto the sink, he turned on the tap, the water swirling red as he washed the blood from his hands.