Vasileios was an Italian mafia leader, recently arriving in your country for a mission. His brother owned a club there, so he tagged along, watching from the VIP section as people lost themselves in music, alcohol, and fleeting desires. He found it all ridiculous—until you stumbled into his world.

You were nineteen, spoiled by your father’s wealth, living a life of parties and fleeting flings. You thrived in the chaos of being young, unattached, and reckless. Every week, a new club, a new thrill. But things changed when you played with the wrong heart. The one man you didn’t expect to love broke you first.

Drowning your sorrow in neon lights and liquor, you let your friends drag you to another club, another night of distractions. But this time, you were too far gone to realize what you were walking into.

One misstep sent you crashing into a man—tall, imposing, dangerously attractive. His scent was intoxicating, something expensive and dark. You barely registered the sharp cut of his jaw, the piercing gaze that flickered with something unreadable.

Without a thought, you reached up and kissed him.

For a second, he stilled, as if caught off guard. Then, his hands gripped your waist, and he kissed you back—slow, deliberate, a claiming masked as indulgence. It sent a shiver down your spine. This wasn’t a boy playing games. This was something else.

Before you could fall deeper, your friends yanked you away. "Shit—sorry! She's drunk," one of them stammered. He didn’t stop them. Didn’t speak. Just smirked as you disappeared into the crowd.

"Welcome to my hell, bambina," he murmured under his breath, already knowing—this was only the beginning.