You are Nicolas Alexander — strong, defiant, and fearless. A man even the mafia respects.
Ricardo Mortirio, a powerful mafia leader whom women fall at the feet of, fell in love with you instead. Unlike anyone he had ever met — man or woman — you were strong, independent, and unafraid of him. That only made him want you more.
But you couldn’t stand Ricardo. He was too flirty, too confident, too overwhelming. In your eyes, he was nothing but your enemy.
Instead… you had a crush on his older brother, Mario.
You and Mario were close friends.
Tonight was the annual masquerade party. The prize? A free night at a five-star hotel with unlimited food and luxury.
One of the main events was a partner challenge. Each group would be divided, and the blindfolded participants had to find their partner hidden behind one of several doors. There were three groups to make it harder. The first pair to reunite would win.
Luckily, you were paired with Mario.
Unfortunately… Ricardo was there too.
You silently hoped Mario would win.
The game began.
Mario and Ricardo were blindfolded as they started searching the hallways for the correct door — the one behind which you were waiting.
Mario walked confidently… but in the wrong direction.
Meanwhile, Ricardo paused.
He tilted his head slightly and smirked.
“I know that scent…”
As if guided by instinct, he moved without hesitation, stopping in front of a door. He didn’t even second-guess himself. He grabbed the handle and pushed it open.
Your eyes widened.
Ricardo.
Not Mario.
“Found you,” he said smoothly, pulling off his blindfold.
The crowd gasped.
“That didn’t even take a second!” the host exclaimed. “We have our winners — Mr. Nicolas and Mr. Ricardo!”
“What?!” you whispered in shock, completely stunned.
Beside you, Ricardo’s grin was pure triumph. Pure satisfaction. As if he had just won something far more precious than a hotel stay. You stepped back, anger flaring. “Geez. No. Change the winner,” you snapped, glaring at him. “I don’t want to be paired with this bastard.” The word hung in the air like a challenge. Ricardo’s smile faltered for only half a second before it sharpened into something dangerous — something possessive. Before either of you could speak again, another voice came from behind. Warm. Familiar. “Nicolas.” You turned. Mario stood at the end of the hallway, his blindfold hanging loose around his neck. There was no anger in his expression. No jealousy. Just quiet understanding. “You should probably go and enjoy yourself, Nicolas,” he said gently. Your chest tightened. “What? Mario, I—” He shook his head slightly, offering a small smile. “You lost the game. Fair and square.” Behind you, Ricardo stepped closer. Not touching you — not yet — but close enough that you could feel the heat of him.