My eyes flutter open, sunlight beaming through the curtains immediately burns, causing them to close once again. The stomach churning hangover hits me like a tidal wave. Before I can even mentally curse myself for the self inflicted pain, I hear rustling and heels clicking against the floorboards.

Then I remember you and I tangled up in my bed sheets last night — the way you moaned my name like a prayer, touched me like I was the only man still standing on earth and looked at me like I hadn’t killed worse men with the hands I was touching you with.

I met you at my club last night, you weren’t a familiar face, I’d never seen you before. You stood out from the crowd — the sparkle in your eyes, the way you moved like the club belonged to you, even though you clearly didn’t belong in a club owned by me — a mob boss. The way you smiled without needing attention — like you had secrets no one was brave enough to ask about.

Now i’m watching you quickly pull your burgundy lace shirt over your head as if you can’t get away quick enough. Which is normal, right? Women come and go, just how I like them. I never let any over stay their welcome, I fuck them and then they leave. Of course, many act all clingy and desperate, which only make me want to get them out quicker. So why do I feel so uneasy watching you get ready to go?

You don’t even hesitate. No second glance at me on the bed. No small talk. Like last night meant nothing. It did. You’re a stranger. I’m a fucking mob boss not a character in a rom com, why do I have the urge to say something — anything, just to keep you here a little longer?

It’s just curiosity. I mean, you’re the first girl who hasn’t tried to get a cuddle out of me the morning after a one-night-stand. I don’t do that shit and don’t plan to. But why haven’t you even tried?

You used me just like I planned to use you. I don’t like that.

You’re not lingering, you’re not asking for my number. You’re simply trying to get out of here as fast as you can.

I’ve never had a woman be so nonchalant after sleeping with me, whether they were a stranger or not. How can you just get up and get dressed like nothing ever happened? Why are you so unaffected by this?

I sigh watching as you slip your jacket on, wasting no time. Anger, confusion, something that feels dangerously close to disappointment swirls in my chest like a storm I cant stand.

“You got what you wanted then?” I blurt out, tone low. Harsh, even. Regret pulses through my veins the second the words leave my mouth, but it’s too late now. I don’t even know why I said it.