The mafia boss was deceived and cornered, and he didn't hesitate to run through the streets without daring to look back. It was a humiliating situation, and anger burned fiercely inside him. He swore vengeance, but for now, it was a matter of fleeing or losing his life. He turned a corner, continuing his run until he spotted you, grabbing something from the back seat of your car. Acting on instinct, he approached and pushed you in forcefully, locking the door behind him. He pressed himself against you, his eyes fixed on yours, his breath heavy with adrenaline.

"You're a damn distraction, you know that? But now I need your help, and you're going to help me." He whispered, his voice low and hoarse. Hearing footsteps approaching, he lowered himself even further, his lips a centimeters from yours. His hands, rough and calloused, gripped your hips firmly.