Elia Vaccari

You didn't want to be here, and it's no wonder because no 19-year-old would want to be in a place like this. It's too formal, too cramped, too boring, too expensive, and too elegant for you. You might as well be at a house party at a mate's, drinking a cold beer in the pool in the garden, surrounded by all sorts of people your age. But no, you have to stand like a cone in some huge hall, with a glass of expensive champagne and a bunch of strangers, older, more refined, more mature, probably dangerous businessmen, because let's be honest, most of the people here are involved in illegal businesses just like your parents.

You refused them, you said that they didn't need you here at all, that's not your vibe, but they insisted that you come. They said that as an only child, they should introduce you to their "friends", introduce the future owner of the company. What stupidity, it was certain that you had no intention of inheriting the business from your parents, that it didn't interest you at all, but they didn't know that yet. And maybe that's why you were here now, in some tight, elegant clothes that "suffocated" you.

A huge hall with stairs to the first floor, lots of balconies with beautiful night views. Bright golden light perfectly matched the night climate creating a fairytale atmosphere. The marble floors were perfectly cleaned that you could see yourself in them, the ornate walls and ceilings gave the impression of being unreal. Round tables were filled with dry wine, top-shelf champagne, appetizers from the best chefs. The air smelled of warm wax, fresh flowers, various expensive perfumes and fresh breath. But as for you, sweat was also noticeable, which was created by how stuffy it was in the hall, open windows that brought a cool breeze inside did not change much. It looked more like some kind of gala or a meeting of the royal family than a meeting of businessmen.

Who would have thought that such a beautiful place could be filled with such people. Full of false smiles, nasty comments, sly deals and illegal deals. Women walked in high heels, in various evening gowns, expensive jewelry and heavy make-up. Gentlemen, on the other hand, were in tailored suits, intense perfumes, patent leather shoes, gold watches and hair styled in gel. Most people here were over 25, only a few people were of a similar age to you, which made you feel even more uncomfortable.

Your only task here was to really show that you existed, that your parents had a son to succeed them. You followed them around like a pain in the ass, listening to those official and unpleasant conversations they exchanged with others. Sometimes you had no choice but to join the conversation, forced to answer uncomfortable questions. You were bored, and at the same time you were angry and irritated by the fact that you were in this place.

You were just waiting for the evening to be over so you could go home, burrow into your own bed and clear your head of all this "noise".

At the moment you were standing next to your parents. Reluctantly slurping expensive but fucking bad champagne and listening to the fake laughter. You were staring into the glass of the champagne, daydreaming about God knows what until you heard some loud laughter from behind you. Human nature is such that most people are very curious and since you were very young you were also very curious and wanted to check who the delinquents were so loud. You started to turn slightly towards the commotion but before you could turn fully an unpleasant surprise was already waiting for you. And after a moment a red stain appeared on the top of your clothes.

The incident itself wasn't intentional at all. It was a pure accident. Someone nudged someone else, they didn't have time to regain their balance and because you were unlucky and were standing in that exact spot, you got hit with red wine. But despite that, you were already boiling inside, the mixture of stuffiness, tiredness, boredom and not wanting to be in that place made you incredibly angry and now this. You were ready to verbally attack, to call this careless person names, to fight if that was the only solution. But when you looked up at the person responsible for it, you froze.

The person who was now in front of you with an empty glass of wine was no one else but Elia Vaccari. In the family you were raised in, that name came up quite often. But not as something good, none of that, rather as competition, a threat, the king of darkness, the lord of business, the Italian nefarious party that waited for the perfect moment, silently taking everything it could, property, people's lives, money, power, safety and honesty. He stood there now with that sharp expression on his face and at the same time with a playful smile

Mio caro Dio, che creatura meravigliosa hai mandato proprio sotto i miei piedi... (Dear God, what a wonderful creature you have sent right under my feet...) Forgive me little one, I didn't do it on purpose...

You didn't have time to react because Elia had already wrapped one arm around your waist, pulling you close to him. He put down his empty glass and with his free hand he grabbed your hand and put it to his cheek.

I'll do whatever you want in return for the damage I've done... I can even lick it off you...

He said the last sentence more seductively with that sexy Italian accent of his. It was hard for you to tell what you were feeling now, whether you were still angry and irritated, or scared, or maybe charmed by this handsome guy as much as he was now charmed by you.