(Theme Song of the Chapter: Under the Influence - Chris Brown)

Aiden◆Accardi

THE CLUB WAS blood red as the neon lights illuminated the whole place and all that was truly visible behind the smoky midst of cannabis were bodies on bodies as I watched from afar in the VIP lounge. There was a drunk chick next to me in my ear trying to tell me something but the loud music drowned out her annoying voice.

I took a hit from my blunt and was focused on a poker game that unraveled right before me between my good friend and best dealer, Matteo, and another fraternity kid who found his way into one of my clubs looking for a way to show off.

Dumb ass.

"Hey, Aiden, you sure you don't want in?" Matteo hollered from where he was causing a chuckle to leave my lips.

I smirked, shaking my head. "I'll pass, Matteo. I've got better things to do than to take this kid's money."

The fraternity kid scowled at my comment, clearly not appreciating my assessment of his poker skills. He tried to save face by flashing a cocky grin, but it only made him look more foolish.

Ignoring him, I leaned back in my seat, taking another drag from my blunt as I watched the game unfold. Matteo was a pro at poker, and it was clear he had the upper hand. The fraternity kid, on the other hand, was sweating bullets, his hands shaking as he tried to keep up with Matteo's slick moves.

As the tension in the room grew thicker, I couldn't help but feel a surge of amusement. This was better than any reality TV show, watching these amateurs try to outwit each other in a game they clearly didn't understand.

But as Matteo raked in another pot, the fraternity kid's face fell, his confidence crumbling before my eyes. I couldn't help but chuckle, taking another hit from my blunt as I watched him slink away, defeated.

"You owe me another 2 grand, kid..." Matteo declared.

The young guy looked to Matteo nervously. "I c-can't pay a-all that m-money..."

I studied the kid closely, my jaw clenched. Pushing the clingy woman next to me away, I made long strides towards the poker match.

I grabbed the college kid by the collar and jolted him aggressively causing those around to stare nervously.

"You f*cking playing with me?" I snarled, watching as the kid struggles under my grip.

"N-No!" He stammered. "I-I-just d-don't have the rest of the money. Please don't hurt me—please!"

I watched him squirm for few moments before glancing at Matteo who looked to be suppressing a laugh. I turned back to the kid before my lips curl into a sly smile. These college kids were interesting—coming to Miami for spring break, trying to scratch that itch that would only burn them in the end. It was hilariously predictable.

I released the fraternity boy, who looked up at me with a mix of fear and anticipation. He glanced at his friends, who shared his terrified and skeptical expression. I could see how badly he wanted to run—hell, I'd run from me too.

"I'll make you a deal, kid." I said slyly. "Never show your face in one of  my clubs again, and we'll say you broke even. Understand?"

Motherf*cker is lucky I don't use this club to generate funds.

The kid nodded rapidly before scurrying off with his group of friends. As he ran, I noticed the pee dripping down his legs. Within seconds, they were out of my club completely.

"You're a sick bastard, you know that?" Matteo said bursting out into laughter. "That kid is catching a flight back home as we speak."

"Bastard?" I asked him with a chuckle. "I went easy on him."

◆◆◆

"I told you, Marco," I sneered into the phone, the frustration evident in my tone. "Tell the Mancini family that I can double that offer in a second. We need this deal to go through if we're going to finish this."

I could hear Marco sigh on the other end. "Sir Accardi, I understand. But David Mancini isn't so sure anymore. He feels you are underselling because you are worth more."

My hand slammed down on my desk, and I could feel my rage boiling. Underselling him? Underselling? If anything I was overselling him, The Mancini family had been downward spiraling ever since their best dealer was imprisoned last year. Their product wasn't worth shit and they weren't shit.

"Listen—"

I am cut off by the knock to my office door. I grimaced in aggravation before hanging up on Marco.

"What!" I hollered squeezing my cellphone so hard I felt that I would break it.

"Sorry to disturb you, Mr. Accardi. It seems that Ms. Cruz is here for your session."

I took a deep breath and tried to relax myself. "I'll be out." I muttered.

She was here.

The physical therapist.

Sophie Cruz.

Like anyone I hire, I make sure to do my research. It's how I protect myself and ensure I'm not dealing with any fools. Before our first meeting, I dug into Sophie's background. There wasn't much to find, except that she grew up in Fort Lauderdale and moved to Miami when she was 15. She attended the University of Miami and then entered a post-baccalaureate program to get her license.

She was clean.

Squeaky clean.

Ironically, I was always skeptical of the clean ones.

But I needed her help.

After getting hit during a shootout and enduring surgery, my shoulder has never been the same. I initially relied on cortisone steroid shots to mask the pain, but the side effects were awful and made me lose focus--which couldn't slide as I had a business to run. I had to admit, after our first session, my shoulder felt lighter, and it wasn't such a pain to snap the neck of the snitch who ratted my business plans to my brother, Enzo.

Thanks to that asshole, Enzo was flying back here next week and the last thing I needed was him trying to assert himself in my work.

The very work that father left to me to handle.

A fact Enzo couldn't seem to accept.

I made my way out of the office and upstairs, heading into my former workout room. There, by the wooden desk, stood the woman I'd been waiting for. She was an exotic beauty, her long chestnut hair starting off straight before cascading into loose waves. Her tan skin wasn't just kissed by the sun but was an alluring gift of her genetics. I watched as her cupid's bow lips scrunched together in concentration, her eyes intently reviewing the paperwork in her hand.

When I first hired her I was expecting some middle aged Spanish lady, but what stood before me was a young woman, tiny in stature with an hour glass frame I could see despite the thick fabric of her scrubs. I stood at there doorway, my presence still unknown to her.

Unaware little mouse.

And as if she heard my thoughts, she looked up, her cheeks flushing at me.

"Mr. Accardi—"

"Aiden." I corrected. "You're sounding like Walter."

She bit her lip nervously before placing the paperwork she held down.

"My apologies," She said. "I was actually reviewing your paperwork but your most recent hospital visit doesn't explain your injury at all. Walter says the injury happened a month ago but this paperwork is 3 months old. There probably needs to be an update."

I gave her a subtle grin. Her confusion was cute. The most recent file wasn't there because it did not exist. Imagine what would have been if I, Aiden Accardi, had gone to the hospital after a shoot out with a rivaling gang? The police would be on my tail and all suspicious activity would be under scrutiny.

"Well," She voiced timidly and I could see her eyes look to my shoulder. "Can you fill me in on that freshly healed wound on your shoulder?"

I raised a brow at her. "For a physical therapist, you sure are nosy."

I could see her body falter from my words and I felt this thrill in watching her exterior crumble at my attention.

"I'm not trying to be nosy," She retorted, "As your PT it is extremely important for me to know about underlying conditions and physical trauma to properly customize a treatment plan in accordance to your needs."

My eyes raked over her one more time and I couldn't contain my mischievous smile. Her hands were crossed politely and her feet tapped the grey wooden floor anxiously.

"Okay, sweetheart..." I said causing her mouth to part in shock. "I was shot."

Her mouth parted even wider and I fought the urge to laugh.

"Oh my—I'm so sorry to hear that." She said, flustered.

"Don't apologize," My tone growing serious. "It's the way of the game."

I could see her expression grow more confused as she tilted her head back. "What game?" she asked skeptically.

I watched her closely and I took in the glimpse of horror in her eyes as she anticipatedly waited for my answer. Sophie Cruz was a squeaky clean girl, she had no business here treating me of all people. She had no business touching the wounded skin of a man so unclean.

"Hunting." I answer. "Me and my brothers go hunting all the time. Sometimes those stray bullets just hit."

Her horrified look is replaced with one of sheepish understanding and she nods her head. "Careful." She muttered nervously before writing something down at her clipboard.

It wasn't long before those soft delicate hands roamed over my skin. The tension in the room was thick as she lifted up my left arm gently and manipulated my muscles, I could feel a slow sense of relief hit my shoulder.

As the session continued, Sophie's movements were less rigid and more relaxed. Her eyes would meet my gaze every now and then, and she would freeze before looking away from me. But her hands became more deliberate in their actions.

"I'm sensing hypomobility here." She stated as she pressed on my shoulder, she pressed herself against me, her curves fitting perfectly against my frame.

She looked down at my eyes and there is a glint of something that remains there for a second before her almond doe eyes looked away from me.

For a second, there was no little mouse.

For a second there was something else.

It wasn't long before the session was over, and Sophie began to pack her things in her bag. She avoided my gaze and nervously fumbled with the strap of her bag before slinging it around her arm.

"Um, just repeat the exercises we talked about. Keep doing that and with time you'll regain all mobility in that joint."

"Thanks, sweetheart." I said teasingly and I could visibly see her body grow tense.

"I-It's Sophie."

"I know."

Her light brown eyes lingered on me for a moment before she smiled softly and turned to leave the room. My gaze, like a magnet drawn to her allure, followed her until she disappeared from sight..

I was a man shamelessly drawn to forbidden fruit.

It was apparent in my choice of vice.

In my line of work.

and in the women I pursued.

Sophie Cruz was the epitome of forbidden fruit.

The question was, would she ever let me taste it?

◆◆◆

I hope you guys enjoyed the second chapter. Please let me know what you think in comments and vote. What do you guys think about Mr. Aiden Accardi thus far? Do you see this arrangement remaining professional at all? I mean obviously not cause then there wouldn't be a story to tell *wink*. Get ready for this ride cause there is a lot to bring forth to life.

xoxo,

-v