Chapter Four—Bad, Bad Decisions

Chapter Four—Bad, Bad Decisions

Anastasia smelled incense—No. Tobacco. It’s brash aroma found it’s way into her nose, right as she felt the ray of the early sun seep it’s way into her eyes. She let out stifled yawn, then tried stretching her sore arms only to realize another presence on the bed with her.

Wait. This wasn’t her bed!

She jolted upright as a gasp escaped her, raking a hand through her hair as she tried to clear out the morning haze that clouded her eyes. She could basically hear her heartbeat thrumming, trying to clutch her dress only to see herself naked.

Where were her clothes?!!

She almost let out a scream, right as the effects of her hangover started to take place and the throbbing headache making her wince loudly. Then she heard a groan from beside her, turning her head slowly she found the gloriously naked back of a man whose head remained concealed on the pillow. The full back tattoo of a dragon and a serpent, both trying to devour each other made her gulp hard.

She tried retracing her steps, piecing the events of the night together—Lunch…..the breakup…..the club…..being abandoned by the waiter……the cute bartender who kept pouring her drinks….and then…..

Oh God.

Her face went pale.

The striking man who approached her with a brazen sense of confidence that made her legs wobbly, the beautiful being who listened to her bitter narration of her breakup and offered to take her home for the night, the dangerous mouth that ravaged hers with a force as soon as she gave him a opening and then his name which sparked a fire inside of hers.

Theo Vitale.

Wait. She paused. Theo Vitale? Certainly it wasn’t the same Vitale she knew of, the infamous mafia family known for plaguing the underground with their ruthlessness, it wasn’t the same Vitale was it?!

She let out a choked gasp as she scarily glanced over to the well sculpted body of her one night stand, the man who was still asleep, naked, with the bed cover only concealing the lower parts of his body. She stared at him intently now, trying to figure out the clues and it finally dawned on her—she’d slept with Theo Vitale!!!

How drunk could she have been to not realize he was the same Theo Vitale, the infamous mafia boss whose name made the whole city cower in fear. How drunk was she?!!!

She wanted to scream. She needed to get out of here before he noticed her presence, slowly retreating out of the bed without as much making a sound. Theo stirred in his sleep which made her hold her breath, her cheeks were beyond the color of a tomato, as she slowly walked on her toes and glanced around the room for her clothes.

She wasn’t religious, but she prayed to whatever deity existing that he wouldn’t wake up, not when she was in a frantic mess of her own. A spinster as herself, making the worst decision of her life.

She’d been shelled for too long, and the one night she finally decides to let loose, she finds herself in the bed of a murdering mafia boss. She couldn’t scream and hate herself if she wanted to, all she needed was to get out of here.

Her clothes were all over the room, her bra hanging without shame on the lamp post, her dress at the edge of the bed, and her panties—she gulped hard, staring at the torn fabric which was practically useless now. She refused to remember what had happened last night, as a matter of fact she made a quick vow to never remember how Theo Vitale had changed her entire world with the way his body merged with hers. She just couldn’t live with the fact that she’d slept with a murderer, and she enjoyed it!

So she quickly got dressed, void of any undergarment. She found her purse lying by the door and picked it up, luckily every important item was still in place. She looked back at his body one last time, still in a deep slumber, still dashing, and gulped again.

At the moment she wasn’t thinking about her mistakes. She wasn’t thinking about her boyfriend who had broken her heart.

All she could think about was Theo Vitale, hoping and praying to whatever god was out there, that he doesn’t remember her when he wakes up.

*********

“Boss?” Theo heard in his sleep, “Boss??”

Whoever was standing right in front of him, whoever had opened those damned curtains and let the light in, he was going to cut their damned fingers off if they didn’t walk away from this moment on.

“Boss…” the voice called again.

He finally grunted awake, “Fuck off.”

Harlow didn’t heed to his boss’s words, as a matter of fact he took off the covers that exposed Theo’s bare ass and raised his brow in question. Theo glared at him, too tired to even be mad, all he wanted was to rest a little bit more but Harlow being in front of him only meant something important was going down.

He let out a yawn, and then he stretched his arms. His second in command, and most trusted aide snorted loudly, “I guess you had a good time last night.”

“Wh—“ Theo paused for a minute, then his eyes traveled to the ripped panties on the floor next to Harlow. His lips slowly curved into a smile, and then the realization of Anastasia’s absence finally dawned on him, the grin disappeared almost immediately and morphed into a scowl.

“Where is she?” He asked.

Harlow chuckled, “What? She’s gone. Isn’t that what you usually expect from your night conquests??”

Theo shook his head, now bolting out of his bed and not caring about being naked in front of another man. He glanced around the room, eyes frantically looking for any signs of her presence apart from her shredded underwear. This sudden behavior put his aide in a loop, Harlow couldn’t help but cock his head in question,

“Boss??”

“Where is she?!”

Now this was different. Theo Vitale wasn’t known for being this outraged because of a woman, one he took to bed that is.

“She’s not—-Who, exactly??” He couldn’t help but ask.

“The lady in the red dress,” Theo raked a hand through his hair, “She was with me last night.”

“I know but—

“Find her!” Theo yelled, now getting agitated as the time passed. He sounded crazy, whoever she was last night, she was making him crazy.

“Find her?” Harlow was beyond confused, “What’s her name?”

The mafia boss froze.

Agatha? Anita? Amelia? Amaya?

He couldn’t remember. She had a red dress on, with a smile that toppled his very idea of a beautiful woman, a drunk but alluring disposition, and a body that made his sing a beautiful tune. He gasped, staring at Harlow who looked at him like he was out of his mind, and rightfully so.

He couldn’t remember his crimson damsel.