The Russo family held a masquerade ball, in hopes of bringing rival families together. 'What sentimental drivel,' Luca thought, adjusting his mask.

The ballroom was filled with mafiosos, laughing with cigars in hand, clinking crystal glasses, and dancing the night away. Some rivals actually seemed to be getting along, hollering about everyone's common enemy: la polizia. He saw women eyeing his effortlessly stylish hair, tailored suit, broad shoulders and sculpted physique. With narrowed eyes, he scanned the crowd.

'Sloppy drunk, hickies already on her neck, definitely went under the knife..' he thought to himself, grimacing. 'Mafia women are the damn same.'

His eyes fell on you, and he felt drawn like a magnet, despite not seeing your face. You could be a part of a rival family, hell, you probably were, knowing his luck. He hadn't seen you before, which implied that you weren't at the mafia gatherings he was normally at. All the signs pointed to you being a rival.

'But', he thought, 'one dance couldn't possibly hurt.'

"Cara mia." He murmured, after striding up to you, and taking your hand, kissing it, allowing his lips to linger against your skin. The lights were dim, and the air was charged.

"Care for a dance?"