Chapter 9

Xander’s POV

Walking into Club Paradise, I glanced around at the crowd of people drinking, laughing, and losing themselves in the music. The dancers were already on stage, moving effortlessly to entertain the guests.

This place was my only escape.

The only place where I could unwind without thinking about the responsibilities that came with my life.

And trust me…

My job was not a small one.

It required me to make decisions that most people would never have the courage to make.

Decisions that determined whether someone lived… Or died.

That kind of power came with a price, and it was exhausting.

So this place, this club, was where I came to forget all of that.

“Stay here,” I said to my bodyguards as I stopped near the entrance.

“I’ll go in alone.”

“Yes, boss,” they answered in unison.

“And feel free to grab a few dancers for yourselves,” I added with a small smile before heading toward my private lounge.

The moment I sat down, a waitress appeared beside me with a glass of whiskey on ice.

Right on cue.

I lifted the glass and took a slow sip.

“Oh… you’re here.”

Dan suddenly rushed into the room, looking slightly nervous.

“I wasn’t expecting you until Friday.”

“Well,” I said calmly as I took another sip of my drink, “today must be your lucky day.”

Dan forced a laugh.

“Of course. I’ll bring your dancer immediately, Draco.”

He quickly disappeared again.

I shook my head and finished the rest of the whiskey in one swallow.

You’re probably wondering why people call me The Draco.

I suppose I should introduce myself properly.

My name is Xander Díaz.

But in this city, in my City, everyone knows me as The Draco.

Why?

Because I’m the man who decides who lives… And who dies.

Being the most feared mafia boss in this city earned me that name.

Some people claim the angels cursed me. They say my red eyes are proof of the blood I’ve spilled. That they are stained by the souls of the men I’ve killed.

But personally? I think the devil blessed me with these eyes.

Because they strike fear into everyone who looks at them.

And fear… Is power.

I own this city.

From politicians… To the police.

Nothing happens here without my approval.

You might be wondering why I do it.

Why I chose this life.

The truth is simple. I didn’t choose it. I was born into it.

My father was El Jefe before me.

When he retired, the empire became mine.

Money. Guns. Violence. Power.

It was the only life I had ever known.

And honestly?

I liked it.

The Respect. The Control. The Unlimited wealth. And the ability to have any woman I wanted.

“Draco, your dancer will be out shortly.”

Dan’s voice pulled me from my thoughts.

I nodded slightly.

Moments later, the lights dimmed.

A small smile formed on my face.

My dancer had arrived.

She walked into the room wearing the traditional red mask.

My favourite.

But something was different about her.

She was slender. Petite.

Her hair shone like gold under the dim lights.

And she looked nervous. I could see it in the way her fingers fidgeted.

Interesting....

Then the music started.

And she began dancing. And suddenly…

I was mesmerised.

I had never cared before about who it was dancing for me. I didn’t care about their faces. Or their names.

They came. They danced. They left.

But this girl… This girl was different.

There was something about her. Something electric. Something dangerously innocent.

I could feel it. I could almost smell it.

Like a shark sensing blood in the water.

Her innocence drew me in completely.

This wasn’t my usual dancer, and I needed to know who she was.

So when the music stopped, and she turned toward the door…

I stopped her.

“You’re not my usual dancer.”

I stood and slowly walked toward her.

“No… I’m filling in for Bambi,” she said quietly.

Her voice trembled slightly.

Her eyes remained fixed on the floor.

One of my rules was that dancers should never look me in the eyes.

But now…

I hated that rule.

Because I desperately wanted to see her eyes.

I began circling her slowly.

Studying her.

Who was this girl?

Why did she affect me this much?

Then I stopped in front of her again.

I lifted her chin gently.

“For someone who claims to be no one,” I said quietly… “You’ve captured my full attention.”

---

Isabella’s POV

My heart was racing wildly.

My palms were sweating. And those red eyes…

Those terrifying, yet mesmerising eyes…

Made it almost impossible to breathe.

Every time I thought I had gathered enough courage to speak…

Those damn eyes shut me up instantly.

I swallowed hard. Trying to steady myself.

“Didn’t you hear me?” he asked.

His voice was deeper now. More commanding.

“Who are you?” He stepped closer.

My breathing quickened.

“I’m… no one,” I said nervously. “And I’m done here.”

I turned quickly and rushed toward the door.

But before I could escape… His hand grabbed my wrist.

He pulled me back against him.

I gasped.

Our bodies were suddenly inches apart.

I could smell whiskey on his breath.

His hand slid slowly to my lower back.

My breath hitched.

“I’m not done with you,” he whispered.

“No one walks out on me.”

His voice carried absolute authority.

“You leave when I say you’re done.”

My heart pounded violently in my chest.

His fingers moved toward my face.

“Now let’s see who’s behind this mask.”

Panic surged through me.

He couldn’t see my face.

Not now. Not ever.

Something inside me suddenly snapped.

“Get your hands off me… douchebag!”

I shoved him away with all the strength I had.

His eyes widened slightly in surprise.

“Don’t ever touch me like that again,” I warned firmly.

“It’s club rules. No dancer is allowed to be touched.”

For a moment…

He just stared at me.

Clearly shocked.

I lifted my chin slightly.

Feeling strangely powerful.

Then I turned toward the door again.

“Princesa.”

His voice stopped me.

I froze.

He walked closer again.

Towering over me.

Then he held out a thick bundle of money.

“Your tip,” he said with a slow smile.