•Francesca•

"Go by a fake name, Francesca."

"And do not drink wine that anyone but the waiters serve. They might be poisoned."

"Oh and-!"

I cut Gianni off by clearing my throat. The end of the phone goes silent, letting me finally speak.

"This isn't my first Rodeo, Gianni. I know how to do my job."

"Yeah. Yeah." His sarcasm thicker than his accent. "Just get the job done."

Without waiting for an answer, Gianni ends the call.

I throw my phone in my Porsche's glove department, I step out my car watching people in elegant dresses and suit enter the ball.

My gold gown was off the rack from some designer store and so were my heels.

My red locks of hair was piled up into a crown braid with a tiny tiara on top.

I walk up to the front door to see three body guards in slick black suits, with their arms crossed.

"Hello, gentleman." My usual lowish voice turns up a few notches.

The first guy on the left raises an eyebrow.

"Give me your invitation, sweetheart." The guy on the right holds out his tattooed hand.

His American accent was consumed with lust. My eyes uncontrollably give him a long once over.

Hot.

He reads over my invitation before giving me a strange look.

"You're Gianni Morelli's Capo?"

I nod, feeling a piece of my hair fall from the bun.

"Enjoy, sweetheart." He winks before opening the doors.

Classical music blasted from the room. People were dancing, talking and eating.

And every single person was dangerous and killer.

My white heels click on the tile as I enter. I'm immediately greeted by horny men.

"Damn mami...Need a hot date?" One bald, short man offers.

I politely decline, heading over to the food.

My favorite thing in the world was to eat.

I grab a strawberry on a stick and dip it in the chocolate fountain.

My taste buds have their own little orgasm of bliss.

I'm about to reach for more, when somebody bumps into me.

"Oh, mí despiace tanto." A brunette apologizes, rubbing her arm.

"Va bene." I respond with a cautious smile.

Her hair was wavy and reached her shoulders. She wore a tight right dress with a matching lip color.

She was beautiful.

"You speak English?" She asks. I simply nod, licking the chocolate off my lips.

"Ciao, I'm Ria." She sticks out her hand that I gladly shake.

"Chloe." I lie without even thinking.

I should have a trophy for 'World's Best Sociopathic Liar.'

"Can you believe all this food goes in the trash after the ball!?" She sighs, popping three cherries in her mouth.

I giggle and wipe a fake tear.

"I know...Too bad I can't get a to-go box."

She nods excitedly, handing me a macaroon with the Chanel logo on it.

"A girl after my own heart!" She gushes, kissing her cookie.

I'm about to respond, but out of the corner of my eye I spot Vincenzo Valentino walking in the VIP section.

"It was nice meeting you, Ria." I smile at the short girl, gulping down some beer.

"Yeah you too! Us foodies have to stick together!"

We exchange phone numbers before I go on a hunt to find Vincenzo.

The same guard from before blocks the VIP section with a scowl.

Although it immediately goes away when he spots me.

"Sweetie, come to entertain me?" His America accent holds hope.

"Actually I need to get in-" I point past him.
"-there."

"No can do, sweetie. See VIP ONLY!" He underlines the sign with his ashy finger.

My blue eyes roll like tumbleweed.

No shit, Sherlock.

I pout my lip, looking up into his green eyes. "Come on....Alec." I say reading his name tag.

"What if I payed you?"

He taps his chin deep in thought.

"I can get in deep trouble if I let you in." His green eyes look weary, looking side to side at his surroundings.

"I won't tell anyone if you don't." I cover a fake giggle with my right hand. My left hand's fingers trail down his solid chest.

I give his silky black tie a tug, watching his face engross with desire.

"Fine but no funny business." His hand lifts the velvet rope to the VIP section.

"Aye aye, Captain." I playfully salute making a amused smile appear on his lips.

I dig in my bra in pull out $2,000 dollars.

He gladly takes it, stuffing it in his suit.

I walk inside and recognize powerful men. I was the only woman inside.

Their judge-mental eyes rake me up and down like I'm a piece of furniture for sale.

I entered the wolf zone and I'm just a little lamb to them.

I clear my throat and nod to a few men. My feet take me to the back where a velvety red curtain hangs.

Vincenzo must be in there.

I fix the crooked necklace on my neck and lick my lips before pulling the curtains back.

Fuck me.

Captivating grey eyes meet mine and I feel as if I'm in a trance.

Vincenzo was so much hotter in person. His picture did not do him justice.

All I could do was blink.

My feet or mouth did not want to move. All I could focus on was his beautiful grey eyes.

His body was a piece of art. Tattoos covered every inch of his olive skin.

A tattoo of a red flower, on his neck, peeked out of his suit.

The magnificent dark hair in his head was slicked back perfectly. Only a little loose curl escaped the gel, lazily resting on his forehead.

A small smirk plays on his pink lips.

The smirk only defines his sharp jawline even more.

His muscles underneath his suit was visible. He definitely worked out.

Or fought people enough to get abs.

That's what I do...

I would love to run my hands up and down his defined chest.

"Can I help you, amore?" His voice was deep yet gentle.

Like smooth dripping honey.

I clear my throat once again before speaking.

Here goes nothing.....