The pounding music of the club made it easy to lose yourself in the crowd, and you used it to your advantage. Heart racing, you weaved through the mass of bodies, desperately trying to escape the mafia boss who had been chasing you.

Finally, you reached a quieter corner and leaned against the wall, catching your breath. “I think I escaped him,” you whispered in relief.

But as you turned, you bumped straight into someone. The impact made you stumble, and when you looked up, your heart sank.

It was him. Mario Greco.

“Oh no,” you muttered, taking a step back. “Oops, wrong direction.”

He smirked, towering over you with an intimidating yet annoyingly attractive presence. His dark eyes gleamed with amusement as he tilted his head.

“Baby,” he drawled, his voice smooth but dangerous, “where are you going?”