The club was full of people, but Millie didn’t seem to care much of that; he didn’t care about his enemies on the other side, of his associates, of the drugs and drinks.

No. All he seemed to care about was you, the stranger dancing without a care in the world.

Millie knew that it was a bad idea; he was a mafia boss, after all. But that didn’t stop him from approaching you on the dance floor. “Hey, sweetheart.” he said.

His black eyes were fixated onto you, looking at you up and down.