Chapter two

"... Of course, you don’t know what I’m talking about. You deny it, but you know, for someone who’s usually so composed, you’re acting a bit out of character, Vincenzo. You're practically drooling over that woman."

My jaw clenched, irritation simmering just beneath my surface. I took a long drag from the cigar, my gaze steeling as I blew the smoke out slowly, though my eyes betrayed a flicker of interest that I couldn’t quite suppress. It wasn’t often that someone captured my attention, and this woman had managed it without even trying. Her red hair gleamed under the dim lights, her movements effortlessly confident, her laugh carrying across the room like a siren's call. It was magnetic, infuriatingly so.

"I’ve got no interest in her," I muttered, but Lorenzo could see through the façade.

“You don't? Then ten thousand dollars says I can get her in my bed by the end of the night.” Lorenzo's sly remark vexed me. It shouldn’t have, but it did, because I saw her first. She was mine to claim.

“Relax, that was a joke. Deny it all you want, Fratello maggiore, but I can tell she’s caught your eyes. A word of warning, women like that are nothing but trouble.”

“Trouble?” My thick brow arched up in question.

“... Who the fuck do you think you’re talking too, fratello minore?” I scoffed.

But as much as I wanted to deny it, Lorenzo was right, the woman had indeed caught my attention. I didn’t know why, but there was something magnetic about her that pulled me. Even as I sat here with all my men discussing a matter of upmost importance, I could barely take my eyes off the woman before me, nor could I ignore the growing tension in my pants. I gritted my teeth to bite back the lust, but as I watched her put on a show on the dance floor, I couldn’t think quite straight. She was twerking for goodness sake, and another man was grinding against her. I couldn’t help but imagine it was me up there with her and not that worthless piece of trash right there. It made me angry. This had never happened to me before, but I couldn’t say that I hated it.

Lorenzo smirked, catching the flicker of frustration in my eyes. Women were never a cause to worry about.

“Oh, I know exactly who I’m talking to,” he replied smoothly, lounging back with a casual shrug. “But even the great Vincenzo Maranzano isn’t immune to the charms of a beautiful woman with a dangerous edge. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

I clenched then unclenched my jaw, deflecting with a scoff, but his gaze drifted back to her. She moved with an effortless grace, each twist and sway a siren’s call that had me rooted in place, desire simmering beneath my cool facade. I prided myself on always being in control—over my men, my empire, myself—but tonight, she was making me forget all of that. I wanted to lose control in this woman.

As she danced, oblivious to the effect she was having on me, I felt a pang of irritation. I knew I shouldn’t be distracted tonight, especially not in a club with my most trusted men, where a single misstep could be lethal. Yet here I was, struggling to concentrate on our discussions, my mind clouded with thoughts of pulling her close and losing myself in the heat that radiated between us.

My fingers flexed around the cigar as I fought to keep my composure.

She was an ethereal beauty. My gaze raked all over her body from head to toe, undressing her from this distance, tracing the curves of her body in that short black form-fitting dress that hugged her in all the right places, teasing me with glimpses of skin as she moved. Fair skin, smoldering dark eyes, she looked like she belonged in a movie. My eyes traveled from her perfect face, down her plush lips that were painted to match her hair. They went further down again, following a path down her chest. The neckline was scandalous, dipping low enough to give a generous view of the swells of her breast, but just enough to keep the imagination guessing. Her long slender legs were equally inviting. The woman’s body was a fucking masterpiece, a snack beckoning on me to come have a taste of its tempestuous fruits. With a slow deliberateness, my gaze traveled back up her body to her face again. I wanted her.

“I'm just saying, women like her have been the undoing of men like you for years already.” Lorenzo continued.

“is that a challenge, Lorenzo?” my voice was crisp, and I leaned back into my seat like I owned the place and I did. My well-tailored suit was void of any kind of wrinkle. Being the Leader of the New York Brawlers, I never ran away from a challenge. Especially not a woman who looked as delicate as the one before me. But something told me that she would be anything but delicate. I would need to find out for myself.

“That wasn’t what I meant.” Lorenzo shook his head with a tight smile. The real reason he was so weary of this woman was due to the fact that he’d had his heart torn to shreds by a woman like that just two months ago. It had been an aggravating time for him.

My eyes narrowed at him as I picked up on the tension behind Lorenzo’s casual words. “Ah, I see,” I murmured, my voice laced with a hint of amusement and obvious mock. “So, this is about you. A little heartbreak, fratello minore?” my smile was taunting, but my gaze softened slightly, recognizing the bruised pride behind Lorenzo’s warning.

Lorenzo’s jaw tightened, and he shrugged, feigning indifference. But it stung him deep. “Call it whatever you want, Vincenzo. But you know as well as I do that when it comes to women like her, the only thing you’re guaranteed is trouble.” His words were a reminder of the ruthless world we both lived in, where trust was scarce and distractions dangerous.

Lorenzo reached for the Scotch whisky on the glass table. He was perched.

But I merely smirked, rolling the cigar between my fingers like a toy. “Trouble?” my voice dropped to a murmur as I took another look at the woman, who was laughing with her friend, completely unaware of my attention. “Trouble is something I’ve never had an issue handling, Lorenzo. Besides,” my eyes flashed with an unmistakable fire, “..maybe I could use a little trouble.”

Lorenzo held my gaze, as if trying to decipher whether I would heed his words or charge in headfirst as I always did. But he knew me too well—once something had caught my interest, there was no turning back.

“Fine,” Lorenzo sighed, finally giving in, “but don’t say I didn’t warn you when she leaves a mark you can’t shake off so easily.”

“Don’t worry about me, Lorenzo. Unlike you, I know how to handle my women.” My lips quirked into a menacing smirk as I casted a long glance at him before I returned my gaze back to the woman on the dance floor.

My smile stretched into a dangerous one now as the gears in my head turned. All night, I had been surrounded by men--men in immaculate suits, each of them dangerous in their own right, but I was in a world of his own. I owned the club. This was my territory, my domain. But tonight, I had eyes only for the flame-haired girl on my dance floor. It was like I was getting my own private show separate from the throngs of people dancing and dry humping one another, it was a mess of body movements, but her movements seemed beautiful.

I could no longer ignore this pull, but at the same time, I couldn’t completely dismiss Lorenzo’s warning, yet I wanted to satisfy my curiosity.

Lorenzo’s words echoed in my mind, but I brushed them aside, scoffing inwardly. I wasn’t like him, I was not one to get entangled in the emotions my brother spoke of with such quiet resentment. No, for me, women were a game—a challenge I always conquered, leaving me exactly as I started: powerful, detached, untouchable. But something about her seemed to mock that certainty, and it infuriated me even as it intrigued me.

I continued to watch her. She swayed and spun, lost in her own world. She looked up just once, her eyes sweeping the room until they settled on mine and for the first time tonight, we made eye contact. A flicker of surprise, and then something else—a spark that matched my own simmering gaze. I felt a jolt as she held my stare, a subtle challenge in the tilt of her chin, her lips curving up slightly in response, but as soon as we shared that gaze, it was over, she turned her gaze away.

I could have watched her dance all night, but then she leaned over to whisper something to her friend, who nodded and waved her off with a grin. The woman, slipped through the crowd, heading toward the exit near the restrooms, and my dark eyes tracked her every step. This was my chance.

At that moment, I decided. I was going to know everything about this woman—the way her lips would feel against mine, how that fire in her eyes would look up close, and whether she’d burn as brightly under my touch as she did out here in the middle of my domain.

I crushed my cigar in the ashtray, my eyes never leaving her as I rose from my seat, adjusting my jacket with a practiced ease that sent a ripple of command through the crowd. I could sense Lorenzo’s sigh of resignation beside me, but it barely registered.