007

SHAWN’S

The club was quiet, but I had secured a private room for her. I didn’t mind the music, the noise, or the chaos I thrived in places like this. But she was different. She wouldn’t like it. So, I booked a private place. I could’ve chosen a restaurant, but maybe I liked the edge.

Maybe I wanted to show her a glimpse of my world, the shadows I walk through every day. Not to drag her into them, no. Never. But to let her see that I would shield her from it all. Keep her untouched by the filth. I needed her at my side, not drowning in the dark, but standing just close enough to fight beside me. Normani. The first time I saw her, I didn’t think I would lose myself in her face. But she was so d*mn pretty. Intelligent. Sophisticated. Different. She had this way of being silent that wasn’t emptiness, it was power. When she listened, she really listened. Every word, every detail. How the hell did George let someone like her slip away? For Becky? That spoiled brat who couldn’t pass her exams without bribing a dozen people? He really abandoned a jewel for a worthless piece of glass. Did he ever tell Normani about the mafia? Did she ever see what he really was? She had the kind of sharp mind we could use, and beauty that could open doors. But it was her innocence that got me. It was rare. Untouched. A light in the middle of rot and ruin. And I wanted to protect it. Protect her. Every time I saw Normani, it was like being transported into another world where she stood in a kitchen apron, cooking me something warm, while I came home from tearing apart enemies in the dark. The picture was ridiculous, domestic even… but the thought made me smile. I sat in the corner of the black leather booth, drink in hand. I didn’t even like it. She might hate the smell of alcohol, so I pushed the glass aside and picked up the sparkling water they’d served with the VIP package. It tasted like carbon dioxide and bubbles.

Disgusting. Should’ve asked for still water. My eyes kept drifting to the door. I’d sent her the location, made sure the room was secured. No distractions. No threats. I wanted her to feel safe even though the most dangerous thing in the room was me. Ironic. I glanced at my watch. Ten minutes late. Maybe she’d changed her mind. It wasn’t like her to set foot in a place like this. She didn’t strike me as the “shots and stilettos” type. But that unpredictability was what made her fascinating. She scared me sometimes. Because I couldn’t read her moves in advance. She wasn’t someone I could manipulate or corner. She was sharp, calculating, always three steps ahead. And that strength? God help me… that was exactly what made her irresistible. I had never brought a woman into this part of my life. Never. It was a rule I made and never broke. But Normani? She made me want to rip up that rulebook and write a whole new one just for her. She made me forget every vow I’d sworn on blood and bullets. And the worst part? George met her first. That idiot had a diamond in his hand and didn’t even know it. I don’t know what twist of fate let me cross paths with her after their mess, but I thank God every day that he divorced her before I met her. Because if I’d known who she was back then? I might’ve been tempted to kill him just to get her. Normani didn’t belong in this world. I knew that. She was too good. Too… pure, even with that wild flame in her eyes. She wasn’t like the women who threw themselves at me. She had pride. She had morals. She had a purpose. She made me feel like I needed to earn her and d*mn it, I wanted to. The door creaked open. My breath caught. She stepped inside, slow and graceful, like she didn’t even notice how the room bent around her. Her dress clung to every curve with class, not desperation. Her lips were painted the softest shade of pink. Her hair was swept to one side, falling like silk. I could eat her alive. I didn’t even hide the smile creeping onto my face. “Why did you come late?” I asked, leaning back like I wasn’t on the verge of losing my mind. She raised an eyebrow, sass flickering behind her calm voice.

“Maybe I should just leave. Clearly, I’m too late.” That. That right there is what I love about her. Even when she’s not mafia, she’s got fire. She never cowers. She never begs. She shows up looking good for herself, not for anyone else.

“Going back in that s*xy dress?” I chuckled. “That would be a waste. You should be the one wasted, not the dress.” She narrowed her eyes a little.

“I didn’t come here to get drunk, Shawn. I came to say thank you. For helping me get the company.” My smile deepened.

“If you really came here to thank me,” I said, reaching for the bottle, “then let’s get wasted.” She rolled her eyes.

“No, thank you.” I tilted my head.

“Are you always like this, or are you just afraid of getting drunk beside me?” She blinked.

“Excuse me?”

“Yeah,” I said, my voice low.

“Maybe you’re scared of what you’ll do if you loosen up. Maybe you’ll kiss me. Or admit you want me. Or God forbid reveal those little desires you’re fighting so hard to hide. I can see them in your eyes.” Her expression shifted instantly, like I’d touched something she wasn’t ready to feel. She turned away slightly, adjusting her dress. “What do you mean?” Her voice was tighter now, cautious. I leaned forward, lowering my voice.

“You act like you’re in control, Normani. But I can see you’re scared. Not of me, no. You’re scared of you. Of what you’ll do if you let go.” She didn’t respond. She didn’t need to. I could see it in her eyes: confusion, desire, conflict. She still had feelings for George. I knew that. But desire? That was mine. All mine. She wanted me, and she seemed to hate herself for it. “If you’re not afraid,” I said, “then drink with me.” She stared at me for a moment, then reached for the glass I poured.

“Fine. I’m not afraid. If this proves it then I’m in.” She sat down beside me, closer than necessary. I handed her the drink, and our fingers brushed. We locked eyes. And at that moment, I saw it. Desire. Raw and real. Even if her heart was still tangled in the past, her body spoke louder. Every woman wanted me. But with her? I wanted more. I wanted to be chosen. I wanted her to stop holding herself back and come undone for me. She raised her glass.

“Won’t you drink too?”

I did. And as I lowered the glass, I said the one thing I needed her to hear.

“I invited George and Becky to the party tomorrow.” She froze.

“What?”

“They’ll be there when you’re introduced as the new owner of the company.” Her brows furrowed.

“Okay…” “I want you to do something for me.”“What is it?” She sipped and swallowed hard. I leaned in, my lips near her ear. “Kiss me. In front of George.” She pulled back slowly, her face a mix of shock and disbelief.

“What?” Her lips parted beautifully. I smiled, not breaking eye contact. “You heard me.” “I—why would I—?” “Because,” I said, “You want to. And because I want them to burn. George had gold and treated it like wood. I want him to see what he lost. I want him to know that someone else is holding what he’ll never touch again. And you don’t lie, you want that too. You want to see George get hurt.” I brushed my lips over her skin and she shivered. I wasn’t sure if it was the drink or the fire I’d just lit in her, but she didn’t slap me or storm out. She just stared at me. And that stare? It told me I wasn’t wrong. She wanted me. And d*mn, I wanted her more.