THE MAFIA DON'S PRETTY BOY

The city buzzed with neon lights and the bass-heavy thump of music spilling onto the crowded streets. Inside Noir, the most exclusive club in town, bodies moved to the rhythm, lost in a haze of alcohol and desire.

Noel Laurent leaned against the bar, fingers wrapped around a glass of something stronger than his heart could handle. His best friend, Aria, had practically dragged him here, insisting he needed a distraction.

Distraction. Right.

"Come on, babe," Aria nudged him playfully. "You look like a kicked puppy. You’re way too cute to be sulking over that asshole ex."

Noel scoffed, rolling the glass between his hands. Julian. The name alone left a bitter taste in his mouth.

"He was never worth your time, man," Nico added, tossing back a shot. "You need a rebound. Hell, get two."

Noel exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "I just want to drink in peace."

"That won’t last long," Aria smirked, her eyes flicking toward something…or someone…behind him. "Because you’ve got eyes on you, babe."

Noel frowned and turned slightly.

That’s when he felt it.

A presence. Heavy. Dominant. Unyielding.

From the VIP lounge, he watched.

Vincenzo De Luca.

Dressed in a flawless black suit, his dark eyes pinned Noel in place from across the room. He was surrounded by men in black…his men…but even among them, he stood out. Untouchable. Unchallenged.

And now, interested.

Noel swallowed. His pulse kicked up. Why was someone like him looking at someone like me?

A man in black approached. "Mr. De Luca requests your presence in the VIP lounge."

Noel tilted his head, amusement flashing in his eyes. "Mr. De Luca?"

The man didn’t flinch. "Vincenzo De Luca."

Aria inhaled sharply beside him. Nico went rigid.

Noel knew the name. The most powerful mafia boss in the city. Dangerous. Lethal.

He should be afraid.

Instead, a slow smirk curled on his lips.

"Tell him," Noel said, lifting his drink to his lips, "if he wants to talk to me, he should come himself."

The bodyguard’s expression remained neutral, but Noel caught the slight flicker of hesitation. No one defied Vincenzo De Luca.

Well. Now someone had.

It didn’t take long.

The club noise faded, and the air itself thickened. Noel felt it before he even saw him…the slow, deliberate footsteps, the quiet parting of bodies as if they knew who was coming.

Then, he was there.

Vincenzo De Luca.

Standing right before him. Tall. Imposing. Absolutely fucking breathtaking.

"Not many people refuse me," Vincenzo said smoothly, voice dark velvet wrapped in steel.

Noel took another sip of his drink, feigning boredom even as his heart pounded. "Then you must not be asking the right people."

A flicker of amusement. Interest. Challenge.

Vincenzo stepped closer, his cologne…something rich, dark, sinful…invading Noel’s senses.

"I was going to offer you a drink," Vincenzo mused. "But now, I think I’d rather keep you sober. I want you to know exactly what you’re doing when you look at me like that."

Noel arched an eyebrow. "Like what?"

"Like you want me to ruin you."

The words sent a delicious shiver down Noel’s spine.

He should be wary. Should keep his guard up.

Instead…

He moved.

Noel stepped into Vincenzo’s space.

Close enough to feel the heat radiating off his body, close enough that his breath ghosted against Vincenzo’s jaw.

"You seem so sure of yourself," Noel murmured, voice dripping with mock sweetness.

Vincenzo didn’t move, but his eyes darkened.

Noel reached up, slowly, deliberately, wrapping his arms around Vincenzo’s neck.

The club disappeared. The music, the people, the world…nothing existed but the two of them.

Vincenzo’s hands hovered at Noel’s waist, not touching, but claiming.

"Careful, Noel," Vincenzo murmured. "I don’t play games."

Noel smirked. "Then it’s a good thing I do."

He leaned in, lips brushing the shell of Vincenzo’s ear.

"Take me home with you."

"Do you even know what you're asking for, Noel?"

Vincenzo’s voice was low, edged with something dark, something dangerous. It wasn’t just a question…it was a warning.

Noel smirked, still clinging to Vincenzo’s neck, his breath warm against his skin. "You’re the one who won’t stop staring at me, Mr. De Luca. I figured I’d make it easy for you."

A sharp exhale. Vincenzo was not a man who was easily tempted. Women threw themselves at him, men envied him, and no one…no one…ever told him to come to them.

Yet here he was. Drawn to this reckless, infuriatingly pretty boy who had no idea who he was playing with.

Vincenzo’s grip finally tightened around Noel’s waist, pulling him flush against him. "Be careful what you offer, Noel. Once I take something, I don’t give it back."

Noel tilted his head, pressing closer, his fingers brushing through Vincenzo’s perfectly styled hair, deliberately messing it up. "Then take me."

Vincenzo snapped.

One hand slid to Noel’s throat, his grip firm, but not enough to hurt. Just enough to control.

"Come."

Not a request. An order.

Vincenzo’s car was a sleek black Maserati, the kind of luxury that screamed wealth and power. The ride was silent…except for Noel’s occasional, teasing hums and the way he kept stealing glances at Vincenzo.

He was playing with fire.

And he knew it.

The elevator to Vincenzo’s penthouse was smooth, seamless, and the moment they stepped inside, Noel made his move.

He turned to Vincenzo, eyes gleaming. "Do you always take home boys you meet in clubs?"

Vincenzo’s lip curled. "No. And you’re not a boy."

Noel chuckled, leaning against the elevator wall. "Then what am I?"

Vincenzo stepped forward, hands caging Noel in against the cold metal. "The first mistake I’m about to make."

Ding.

The elevator doors opened, but neither of them moved at first. The tension sizzled between them, the air thick with anticipation.

Then Vincenzo exhaled sharply and grabbed Noel’s wrist, leading him inside.

The penthouse was sleek, modern, breathtakingly large…but Noel barely had time to admire it before he was pressed against the nearest wall.

Lips crashed together…hot, demanding, unforgiving.

Noel gasped into the kiss, fingers curling into Vincenzo’s shirt. He tasted expensive, like whiskey and control.

Vincenzo’s hand slid down, gripping Noel’s waist, pulling him even closer. Noel moaned softly as teeth scraped his bottom lip, and suddenly, he was being lifted.

"Bed. Now."

Noel barely had time to register before he was carried into the bedroom, tossed onto the massive mattress.

Vincenzo climbed over him, one knee pressing between his thighs, hands pinning him down.

Noel’s breath hitched. "For someone who doesn’t play games, you’re pretty good at them."

Vincenzo’s fingers trailed down Noel’s flushed neck, his pulse hammering under his touch.

"Is this a game to you?" Vincenzo’s voice was dangerous now, his thumb brushing the edge of Noel’s lips. "Because if it is, you’ll lose."

Noel shivered, his body betraying him. He should’ve felt in control…he had been teasing Vincenzo all night.

But now?

Now, Vincenzo had completely taken over.

"Then ruin me," Noel whispered, challenging.

Vincenzo groaned, his lips crashing against Noel’s again. This time, it was worse. Rougher, hungrier. His hands roamed…gripping, claiming, possessing.

Noel was dizzy.

He arched up, his fingers sliding under Vincenzo’s shirt, feeling the heat of his solid, sculpted chest. He wanted more…he needed more.

He reached for Vincenzo’s belt.

Vincenzo grabbed his wrist, stopping him.

Noel blinked, breathless. "What?"

Vincenzo exhaled slowly, his forehead pressing against Noel’s. His body was on fire. He wanted nothing more than to take Noel apart…to completely wreck him.

But…

He pulled away slightly, studying the half-drunk, flushed boy beneath him.

Too fragile. Too tempting. Too… important.

"I’m not doing this," Vincenzo muttered, rolling off Noel.

Noel sat up, confused, frustrated. "You’ve been kissing me like you were about to…"

Vincenzo ran a hand down his face, breathing hard. "If I touch you now, I won’t stop."

Silence.

Noel swallowed. "Then don’t stop."

Vincenzo’s jaw clenched. Fuck.

Noel was testing him. Pushing him. But Vincenzo wasn’t the kind of man who took what he wanted without fully claiming it.

And Noel?

He wasn’t going to be a one-night mistake.

Vincenzo turned away, pulling off his suit jacket and heading toward the bathroom. He needed to get himself under control.

Noel flopped back on the bed, frustrated, needy, and completely confused.

"You're killing me, De Luca," he muttered under his breath.

Vincenzo turned on the faucet, splashing cold water on his face.

This was bad.

He had never been this reckless, this close to losing control. He gripped the edge of the sink, his mind spinning.

He could still feel Noel’s hands on him. His lips. His breathy little gasps.

He groaned, leaning against the counter, desperate for release.

His eyes flickered toward the bedroom.

Noel was sprawled on his bed, already dozing off, his shirt slightly rucked up, exposing a sliver of pale skin.

Mine.

Vincenzo exhaled harshly.

No. He wasn’t just some boy toy. He wasn’t someone to use and discard.

He was going to marry him.

The realization settled deep in his chest, like an unshakable truth.

Noel Laurent belonged to him.

Whether he knew it yet or not.

Vincenzo returned to the bedroom, standing at the edge of the bed, watching Noel sleep.

The boy murmured something in his sleep, shifting slightly.

Vincenzo’s fingers itched to touch him.

Instead, he whispered, a dark promise against the silence.

"You have no idea what you've done to me, Noel. But you will."

He leaned down, brushing a barely-there kiss against Noel’s parted lips.

The boy stirred slightly, but didn’t wake.

Good. Let him rest.

Because soon…

He would never be able to sleep without him again.