The Mafia's Mistress

Three Years Earlier

"Cecilia, stop crying. He's not worth it," Rebeca said, clearly annoyed by my incessant tears.

"I'm sorry for liking him. If you can't stand seeing me cry, just leave," I retorted, my frustration evident.

"Fine, I'm heading out. Are you sure you don't want to join us?" Rebeca asked.

"No, every time we go out, the principal tails us. I'd rather stay here," I replied with a grimace.

"C'mon, Cecilia, cheer up. You're heading to Italy next month and turning 18," Rebeca tried to lift my spirits.

"Yes, but right now, the humiliation from Bruno hurts too much," I muttered. "Just go, I'll stay."

Once Rebeca finally left me in peace, I could finally gather my thoughts about what had happened. Since arriving at this boarding school at 14, I'd been smitten with a senior named Bruno. He was the most striking guy here, at least from a distance. I was never a beauty queen, but I didn't expect to be humiliated in front of my friends. He called me fat and boring, forbidding me to eat. I'd faced humiliations before due to being orphaned, but this was a new low. Yet, in his presence, I refused to shed tears. Instead, I whispered to him, "You'd only lose out on being with the only virgin here." I smirked at his reaction and walked away.

I might have appeared foolish, but it was worth seeing his face after mentioning I was a virgin. During our group conversations, he often expressed a desire for a virgin, someone he could do anything with. Now I realize how toxic those comments and attitudes were.

After wiping my tears, I decided not to wallow in bed. I chose an elegant, sexy outfit from Rebeca's wardrobe. I wouldn't be joining her; she was sneaking out of the boarding school to visit the ritzy part of the city, returning later only to rid myself of this virginity, something I'd held onto for so long, all for an idiot like Bruno.

Despite feeling devastated, I found myself beautiful in the mirror. Bruno might have crushed my self-esteem, but I wouldn't let him break me. In less than a month, I'd be out of here, in a different country, attending the university of my choice.

I called an Uber and gathered all the money I'd saved for my upcoming 18th birthday. I simply wanted to enjoy myself and be with someone who wanted me.

The Uber stopped in front of a stunning nightclub with a long queue. As I approached, I heard people yelling.

"Back to the line."

"The line's here."

"No Baranga allowed here."

For a moment, I almost turned away. But seconds later, a hand grabbed mine and pulled me in. I wasn't sure who it was, but I followed, entering the nightclub. She turned to me, smiling.

"Ready! You're in."

"Thank you, but I can't afford it," I said, feeling embarrassed.

"Don't worry about that. I noticed you needed help, and I dislike discrimination," she said, smiling warmly. "This is an open bar card. Enjoy yourself; you don't need to pay for fun."

I couldn't believe there were still kind and considerate people like her. I'd secured free entry and spent the night drinking. Maybe this wasn't the worst day of my life but a stroke of luck. Perhaps I wouldn't find a guy who found me beautiful now, but I kept hope alive. It was only 2 am; there was still time.

At 3 am, with the alcohol energizing me, the man I'd been waiting for arrived. He was the most gorgeous man I'd ever seen in my short life. He was tall, towering over me by at least 20 cm, not that I'd ever been tall. He sat in a secluded, dimly lit corner of the club. He was blond, with hair just brushing his mouth, which I found charming. Though I couldn't see his face clearly, his square jawline and intense expressions stood out.

I had a prime spot to observe him, even in the dim light. He seemed troubled and sad, as if he was having a day as terrible as mine. So, I pondered how I might make it better. I asked the waiter for a piece of paper and penned a note.

"You seem upset. This drink is to brighten your day."

ASS:Bar Girl

As the waiter handed him the drink and the note, he looked directly at me, sending a shiver down my spine. His eyes locked onto mine, forcing me to look away due to their intensity. No man had ever gazed at me so intensely, stirring emotions I couldn't comprehend. Yet, a man like him would never spare me a glance. I was content just trying to make his day better.

Minutes passed, A few minutes passed, and I no longer stared but the man, I knew I had no chance so I stayed in mine. I got up to go to the bathroom and was slightly drunk, but still could stand it more, so it was just washing my face, touching the lipstick, and drinking again.

I took a deep breath thinking of the drugs I had gone to do there, lifted my eyes, and stared at my image in the mirror then heard the door be opened and then locked.

"The door was closed, I just needed to respect it, it doesn't cost anything," I heard a man's voice and I was completely paralyzed when I saw who it was.

It was the man I'd sent the drink to, looking at me in a strange manner, as if he wanted to devour me.

I avoided gazing at him anymore. Suddenly, he was standing in front of me in the bathroom.

"Why did you send me the drink? Were you sent by them?" His deep voice made me shiver.

"I... I..." I stuttered, frozen by his presence.

I didn't understand his tone or whom he was referring to.

He took a step closer, and I instinctively moved back, finding myself cornered by the sink.

"Answer me what I asked you," he said again.

"I thought you were cute. Because my day was awful, and I wanted to make someone else's better," I managed to say, struggling to breathe. He took another step, and I felt my reasoning slipping away.

"Why did you care about me?" he asked, closing in on me.He smelled of whiskey and cinnamon, closed my eyes and breathed deeply, wanted to keep this perfume.

"And why would a beautiful woman like you have a bad day?" he questioned, his hands encircling my waist.

"Can I ask the same about a seemingly affluent man like you being so sad?" I met his gaze.

"I asked you first," he whispered, his breath brushing against my ear as he lightly bit my lobe, causing me to shudder and accidentally let out a moan.

"The guy I wanted as a boyfriend rejected me and then humiliated me in front of his friends," I said with irritation. "Does that answer your question?"

"Yes," he replied.

"You're looking at me differently," I mentioned.

"And how am I looking at you?" he inquired, placing a hand on my backside and giving a gentle squeeze.

"Like you want to devour me," I said.

"And if I did want to, would you object?" he asked.