Chapter 3 Untitled Chapter

[KIRA]

I stare at the man who just spoke, through heavy eyelids. My vision is blurry, denying me a detailed look at his face, but the aura he emits is dangerous enough.

I spot Chiara at the other end, dancing with a guy.

The man settles beside me on the sofa and picks up the bottle.

“‘Una noche de locura,’” he murmurs, tasting the words as he reads them aloud. Then he smirks, translating for me, “‘One Night Stand.’ Quite the name for a wine.”

I blink, caught off guard. “Excuse me?”

He chuckles softly, his eyes piercing yet amused. “It’s labeled as an aphrodisiac. I’d be careful with it.”

No wonder I've been feeling strangely aroused. Gosh! I'm really a mess.

Heat rises to my cheeks, a combination of embarrassment and the subtle effects of the drink. My heart beats faster, not entirely from fear. I realize the warmth spreading through my body is doing more than dulling my nerves.

“I… I didn’t know,” I mutter, trying to mask the flush creeping along my neck.

“Of course you didn't.” He tilts his head, studying me like he can see right through the careful mask I wear. “You’re not from here. ”

It's not a question. I nod drowsily.

“Then what brings you to our country?”

I pull the glass to my lips again, taking a careful sip. “I’m here for studies… and other matters.” My throat tightens, and I force a smile, feeling the aphrodisiac tug at my control. “Other matters… dangerous matters.”

His eyes sharpen. “Other matters?”

I look away, tracing the edge of the glass with my finger. “You wouldn’t understand.”

He leans back, a slow, amused smile tugging at his lips. “Try me. I might understand more than you think.”

I meet his gaze for a fleeting second, a spark of defiance. “I’m here on a mission to…Kil Ryat Vitale.”

His smile deepens, and he shakes his head, leaning closer as if sharing a secret. “Kira, you’re either too brave… or tempting fate. Either way, I like it.” He leans back. “You think you can kill Ryat Vitale?”

I shift slightly, the aphrodisiac making my pulse erratic, every touch of the sofa and warmth of the air around him electric. My mind fights it, tries to anchor itself to the mission, to Ryat Vitale, but the haze and his intense presence make that impossible.

I shake my head, trying to get my brain to focus.

“Why….why not?” I whisper, though my voice trembles under the dual effect of the alcohol and the subtle drug in the wine.

He chuckles, low and knowing. The sound goes straight to my core, forming a pool of wetness in my underwear.

Oh, fuck!

“Ryat Vitale is a powerful Don in the Italian Mafia. He's the head of his Famillia. What makes you think you stand a chance?”

He's right. Ryat will probably kill me before I even have a plan laid out. But I have to try. Father won't take me if I don't.

I squeeze the glass, grounding myself, though my body betrays me. Every brush of his sleeve, the warmth of the bottle in his hand, feels magnified. My mind flashes back to my father’s words, kill, survive, prove yourself, but even that thought seems distant, clouded by the heady fog creeping over me.

I know I need to focus, to hold onto control, but the aphrodisiac is clever, sneaky. My resolve is weakening, each second of his presence a test of willpower I’m unsure I can pass.

He sets the bottle down on the low table, never breaking eye contact. “You should know, Kira… these things aren’t usually meant for someone as careful as you. Or maybe, exactly for that reason.”

I shift on the sofa, gripping the edge of the cushion. The warmth spreading through me is no longer just from the wine; it feels like a fire creeping along my nerves. My chest tightens, my breaths shallower, and every flicker of light, every brush of his sleeve, feels magnified.

“You… you shouldn’t be here,” I murmur, trying to anchor my thoughts. The aphrodisiac tugs at my control, but I force my voice steady.

He leans closer, the faint scent of his cologne mixing with the club’s smoky haze. “And you shouldn't be trying to kill a man you barely know. But here we are “

“I’m here for… studies, and…” I hesitate, heart hammering, “... killing Ryat. I don’t have time for distractions.” My hand trembles slightly as I lift the glass, trying to sip again, but my fingers betray me, clinking it softly against the table.

His eyes follow every movement, sharp and unyielding. “Tell me something, do you know what Ryat Vitale looks like?”

I swallow hard, forcing a calm I don’t feel. “No. He's not one to show up on the media so often. But it shouldn't be hard to find him.”

He laughs softly, low and teasing. “You’re not scared I might be working for him? That I might tell on you, and have you killed?” ” His gaze is magnetic, and for a moment, I feel my defenses crumble, the fog of the aphrodisiac making the world narrower, hotter, centered entirely on him.

His warning resounds in my ears, but the hum of the drug overpowers it.

“I… I have to…” I stumble over my words, trying to pull my mind back to Ryat Vitale, to my father’s orders. “It’s a mission. If I fail…” My voice falters, betraying the tiniest hint of fear.

He tilts his head, as if weighing my words, then slowly smirks. “You’re either incredibly brave… or completely reckless. Either way, I like it.”

Heat rises to my face. The warmth in my body, the pulsing haze in my veins, is no longer entirely from the alcohol. Every nerve in my body feels alive, sensitized to his proximity. My thoughts swirl, the mission in the back of my mind clashing with the haze overtaking me.

“You don’t… understand,” I whisper, trying to sound assertive, though the aphrodisiac twists my tone. “You have no idea what I’m… what I’m capable of.”

He laughs again, a soft, knowing sound that makes the pulse in my ears thrum. “I think I have a very good idea.”

I press my palm to my forehead, fighting to steady my breathing, to anchor myself to purpose.

Ryat Vitale. The mission. Surviving Italy. Proving myself to my father. These are the only things that matter.

But his presence, the effect of the drink, and the sharp contrast between my mission and the pleasure seeping into my nerves make the battle exhausting. Every instinct in me screams to maintain control, but every molecule in my body is whispering something entirely different.

I tighten my fingers around the glass, whispering under my breath, “Stay focused… stay alive… stay…” My words trail off as the club lights blur, his smile lingers, and I realize I might not win this fight.

I try to pull back, shifting on the sofa, but my body betrays me. Every nerve feels alight, my skin humming under his gaze. The warmth in my chest spreads, racing down to my stomach, curling in ways I can’t ignore.

“You feel that?” he murmurs, leaning closer, eyes dark, unreadable. “The drink is working. You’re on fire, Kira.”

I flush, heart hammering. “I… I’m fine,” I manage, though my voice is weaker than I intend. My fingers clutch the glass like it’s an anchor, but it’s useless. Every subtle brush of his hand, every low, teasing chuckle makes my pulse spike.

He reaches out, tracing a finger along my jawline, slow and deliberate. “You fight it… but why? This is just you, Kira. Let it happen. Let yourself feel.”

I bite my lip, trying to stay in control, but the aphrodisiac clouds my judgment. The air between us thickens, heavy and irresistible. My breaths come faster, shallower. My chest rises and falls in a rhythm I can’t calm.

“You… you’re dangerous,” I whisper, voice trembling. “I… I can’t…”

“Too late,” he murmurs, pressing closer.

And somehow, I can’t stop myself. My hands curl into his shirt, and my lips find his. The kiss is urgent, fiery, a collision of restraint and desire. It roars through me, consuming my fear, my hesitation, my every thought.

The world narrows to just him, just us. My body reacts, every nerve igniting, the alcohol and aphrodisiac amplifying everything I try to suppress. My control shatters, and I kiss him back with a ferocity that surprises even me.

He responds immediately, one hand cradling my face, the other sliding to my waist, pulling me impossibly closer. The sofa beneath us disappears; the club, the music, all fades into the background. There is only this, only fire and heat and the electric pull of danger I cannot resist.

I gasp against his mouth, trembling, knowing I should stop, should fight—but every part of me screams otherwise. My body, my mind, my instincts—all surrender to the moment.

And for a fleeting, terrifying instant, I forget Ryat Vitale, my father’s orders, the mission that brought me here. There is only the kiss, only the fire, only him.

~~~

The hotel room is dimly lit, shadows flickering across the walls as the city hums quietly beyond the windows. Clothes have been discarded in a trail, forgotten as hands and lips explore with urgent curiosity.

His lips find mine again, slower this time, teasing, testing. Every brush sends sparks through me, every touch making my body respond before my mind can catch up. I arch into him, letting the heat consume me.

“You’re trembling,” he murmurs against my lips, his hands gliding over my skin. “Does the drink have you feeling bold… or just the thrill of being with me?”

I can only gasp, shaking my head, unable to form words as desire coils tighter inside me. My fingers trace the contours of his body, memorizing, seeking, aching for more. He teases and taunts, never letting me settle, each caress sharper, hungrier than the last.

The air between us thickens, tension coiling, a storm about to break. I’m aware of every inch of him, the heat, the weight, the taste, and I can’t hold back anymore. I press my lips to his, more demanding this time, surrendering fully to the need that consumes me.

He lifts me onto the edge of the bed effortlessly, still kissing me, hands roaming, exploring, igniting every nerve. I let my body mold into his, giving in completely, losing all control, letting desire dictate my every motion.

His whispers against my ear make me shiver, tremble, burn. “You have no idea what you do to me,” he breathes, voice low and intoxicating. Every word wraps around me, binding me tighter, making the heat between us unbearable.

I respond with equal hunger, desperate and unrestrained, the aphrodisiac blurring my senses, heightening every sensation. My fingers dig into his back, my legs wrapping around him instinctively, pulling him closer, needing more.

As he slides into me, a voice at the back of my head reminds me I'm going to regret this.

I have a feeling I definitely will.