6. DANCE AND LUST.

Castle.

The Masked Ball of the season was boring. Yes, I was definitely swarmed by people wanting to get into the good grace of the Lucchese family, but the conversations were mediocre at best.

A lot of groveling on the parts of the senators and influential men that had attended the ball—most of whom I deferred to my second in command, Tomas.

And as for the ones that were too important for me to defer, I managed to wrap up the conversations quickly. I was in a bad mood that night, for sure.

My father should have been the one socializing with the elites that attended the ball. Instead, he's currently indisposed, which made me step into his role as the host.

A gentle tug on my right arm pulled me out of my thoughts, making me turn to face my fiancée, Adriana, who subtly jerked her head to the side.

I followed her directions and found out that a senator was in front of me, and I had been ignoring him.

Reaching out my hand to him, I greeted, “Senator Richard, how lovely to make your acquaintance.”

His face furrowed in confusion, no doubt wondering how I had recognized him. Well, that didn't need much work.

Apart from the fact that I knew every single person on the guest list and what they looked like, the Senator was a notorious philanderer.

And judging by the fact that his eyes had been glued to Adriana's chest with his tongue peeking out, it didn't take a genius to recognize the pervert.

“Mr. Lucchese.” He replied after gathering himself together, shaking my outstretched hand.

“I'd like to discuss some business with you,” he continued, “…in private.”

His eyes darted to Adriana again after the last statement. But before I could reply, Tomas came and whispered in my ear.

“The bouncer just called to confirm that Dean Rosa has arrived.”

Nodding to him, I turned my attention towards the doors, waiting for Rosa to make his appearance so I could take note of what he was wearing—for later.

We had business to discuss, and he was very late. I had almost thought he would no longer be able to attend, but better late than never—I guess.

The doors swung open, and I furrowed my eyes in confusion when I realized that the man who had stepped in was not Rosa.

Sure, they had similar builds and similar hair color, but this man was sporting a full head of wavy brown hair.

And considering the fact that I had met with Dean Rosa earlier this week, and he had been sporting a crew cut then, there was no way his hair had grown this long in just a matter of days.

Nevertheless, I filed this information in the back of my mind and turned to Adriana, who was still latching on to my right arm.

“Excuse us for a minute,” I told her. She nodded and slinked off like the obedient Mafia bride that she was, and I finally turned my full attention to Senator Richards.

“So… about this discussion, shall we?” I gestured towards the balcony.

He nodded and followed my lead, and it took half an hour before I was finally able to wrap up our conversation.

Getting back into the ballroom, I scanned the crowd with my eyes—searching for the imposter that had the balls to pose as Dean Rosa.

I saw him leaning on the wall with a glass of champagne, his eyes also scanning the crowd, and I made my way to him.

Nobody tries to trick me and gets away with it.

The throng of dancers parted on their accord, and I discovered that the man had noticed me.

As I approached him, he raised his eyes to mine, and I was struck with the beauty of his gray eyes shining under the mask. There was only one person I knew that had that distinct color of eyes, and my gaze left his face as I leaned in, subtly checking the back of his ear.

And there it was, my mark—the scar I had given him ten years ago. My Angel, my obsession.

It was obvious that he didn't recognize me, and I used that opportunity to ask him for a dance. He hesitated but finally agreed to it.

As I led him to the dance floor, I suddenly realized that I hadn't asked how he was able to gain entrance in the ball and most importantly, what he had done to Dean Rosa.

But all those questions didn't matter. Because after ten years of pining after him, stalking him and taking note of every detail in his life, he was finally in my arms.

It didn't matter that I knew he was an FBI agent, currently undercover. It didn't matter that the FBI had somehow gotten hold of an invitation card that was solely meant for one of the leaders of the New York mob.

None of it mattered when he placed his lithe fingers on my shoulder, his body melding to mine as I wrapped a jeweled hand around his waist.

We danced and stared into each other's eyes, almost as if in a trance. The music ended, and I lifted my head for the first time since I came to the dance floor with him.

My gaze collided with Adriana's furious eyes and I chuckled softly. It seems like the obedient Mafia bride has a defiant side that she keeps hidden.

She averted her eyes once I caught her glare, suddenly looking pliant. But I wasn't fooled. I knew what was going to happen once she got me alone, but for now, I didn't care.

Turning my attention back to my Angel, I leaned in and whispered, “Would you like to get out of here?”

I felt his shiver and smirked as I ran my tongue over the shell of his ear before pulling back.

He stared up at me, his breaths coming in short, fast bursts.

“I can't.”

Of course, I know he can't. He had a job, after all, but I'd be damned if he managed to evade me this once without me having my wicked way with him first.

Turning on my charm, I moved the hand around his waist down to his ass. We were still on the dance floor and another song had started playing, but we stood still.

Looking into his eyes, I squeezed a globe of his soft ass gently, and he gasped, surprised at my boldness.

Still, I knew that wasn't enough to deter him, so I jerked his hips forward. When his tongue slipped out to lick his lips, I knew he had felt my hardness poking him in the hip—the same way I could feel his.

Leaning in once more, I said, “We can do this here, or we can go somewhere private—your choice. Believe me, I'm fine with either option.”

Just as I suspected, that broke his resolve. He rested both hands on my chest and I could feel the burn through my Italian suit.

“Lead the way,” he whispered, his dilated pupil now fixed on my lips.

Groaning, I stepped back and tugged him impatiently after me, leading him out of the ballroom.

Immediately we were out, he slammed me against the wall, taking me by surprise as his tongue invaded my mouth ruthlessly. I kissed him back with mutual desperation.

Pulling back a little, he stared at my pink lips and groaned.

“My car,” I managed to whisper.

“Where is it? Come on, we're leaving. Now.” He growled, snatching my wrist as he proceeded to march to the direction of the parking lot.

Without kicking a fuss, I followed, which surprised me a bit. I had always been a dominant man but at that moment, I found out that I liked being ordered around by him.

I know I shouldn't leave the party at this moment. It's far too early and my attention will be needed soon. Besides, I'm sure Adriana would be looking for me soon.

But there was no time for reasoning because I planned to claim my Angel's body tonight. Or—due to the way things were looking right now—I planned to let him claim my body tonight, just as he had claimed my soul ten years ago.