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7. White-Hot Oblivion

Author: Aliast
last update Last Updated: 2025-02-14 15:06:24

The smirk he gave me could’ve been weaponized.

“I just wanted to admire the view,” he said smoothly, eyes absolutely devouring me.

Admire the view?

Oh, I’ll give you more views.

I spread my legs wider, an invitation, a neon sign, an entire billboard screaming, ‘Go forth and prosper.’

The corner of Elian’s mouth twitched upward, and oh, he was enjoying this. He was enjoying this way too much.

“You know what I like about you?” Elian murmured against my jaw, his voice all velvet and sin.

I smirked. “Everything.”

He laughed, low and husky, and yep, that sound went straight into the save for later folder in my brain. “That right there. You know exactly how sexy you are.”

And then his mouth latched onto my pulse point with the kind of enthusiasm usually reserved for limited-time sales at luxury stores. His hand glided over my thigh, teasing higher and higher until I had to physically grab onto the silky sheet under me so I didn’t do something desperate.

Like crying out in heat.

His lips bru
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  • When the Mafia Lord Falls   26. I Didn't Steal A Jet

    The matte-black jet waiting on the tarmac made a lot more sense.We parked directly beside it, not a terminal in sight. The driver—Mikkel, I learned when Elian addressed him by name—stepped out and started unloading our bags. Then he circled back to open my door like this was just a regular Tuesday and not an actual Bond movie.Elian stepped out, casual as ever, like this was all entirely expected.I slid out of the car, brushing my jeans, and crossed my arms against the wind sweeping across the tarmac. “You have a plane.”“Yes,” Elian’s voice was all silk and steel. “Quite a nice one.”I looked up at him, squinting. “Stolen?”He scoffed. “Don’t be ridiculous. This isn’t Grand Theft Auto, Maeve. I didn’t steal a jet.” He smiled. That slow, dangerous smile that meant trouble. “I stole the money that bought it.”I stared at him. Just stared. Blankly.In the past thirty minutes, he’d casually confessed to

  • When the Mafia Lord Falls   25. To Port Bellagio

    We were going to Port Bellagio today. The car was already waiting a half block away from Evergarden, so we had to walk there passing hopeful club-goers queueing by the pedestrian. Elian walked faster. I had to half-jog to keep up. My legs were jelly, and my head was still swimming. All thanks to what happened yesterday. The reminiscence, the surrender, the desire to repeat it again and again despite it all. Everything felt too loud, too sharp, like my nerves had been tuned an octave too high.There was movement in my peripheral. A blur, then a burst of noise of laughter and footsteps, and suddenly some guy in his twenties broke from the crowd and stumbled into our path.“Wait—yo, hold up!”He grinned like an idiot, phone already raised. The flash hit just as I lifted my head. Blinding.Shit.My stomach plummeted. I knew that sound. I knew that flash. That wasn’t just some drunk idiot taking a selfie, but that

  • When the Mafia Lord Falls   24. Post-Coital Chaos

    My blood turned to ice, heart skidding into my throat.Isla leaned against the doorway like she owned the place, arms crossed, a smirk curling at the corner of her mouth. “Seems like I'm late to the party.”I scrambled, dragging the sheet up over my chest as if it could somehow hide the fact that Elian’s body was still very much flush against mine. “Oh my God.”“So much for a warning, huh,” Isla said, dry as dust.Elian didn’t so much as flinch. In fact, he laughed. A really loud, shameless laugh.“She’s a cop,” Isla continued with a grimace, clearly relishing her role as buzzkill. “Or were you too busy fucking her knee-deep to notice the badge shoved up her—”“She’s not a cop anymore,” Elian cut in smoothly, still breathless, his arm casually slung around my bare shoulder like this wasn’t a living nightmare. “She’s a journalist now. Technically.”Isla arched an eyebrow. “That’s supposed to be better?”Elian shr

  • When the Mafia Lord Falls   23. Six Years and Still Yours

    This kiss wasn’t the same.“You're mine now.”It wasn’t a test.It was a war.A slow, devastating war I’d already lost before I ever walked into this building.My fingers curled into his shirt, pulling him closer. I didn’t care anymore. Not about the past. Not about the consequences. Just him. Here. Now.His hands mapped the curve of my waist with a kind of desperation, like he was trying to relearn something he'd forgotten. My body responded before I could think, arching into him, surrendering every last scrap of resistance.“Elian—” I gasped against his mouth, but whatever I was going to say died when he swept me into his arms.He carried me like it wasn’t the first time. Which was true. I barely registered the bedroom door closing behind us. I barely registered the way he set me down like I was something fragile, yet, kissed me like I wasn’t.And that’s when the cracks began to show.

  • When the Mafia Lord Falls   22. I Hate Liars

    “Tell me, have we fucked before?”“Yes—”My eyes widened. “Wait—no. I mean—yes, but—not like you think—”The words scrambled over themselves, trying to backpedal, trying to correct, but my mouth wouldn’t cooperate. I was trying to explain the unexplainable, and the silence between us shattered like glass.Elian didn’t move. For a heartbeat. Then two. His piercing blue eyes locked on mine. And then he closed the distance in a single step and kissed me.His mouth found mine like it had been there before and remembered the path by instinct. My knees buckled under the force of it. His hand slid to the base of my neck. The breath was punched from my lungs as a memory of that reckless night shoved itself to the surface. The hotel room.The wine.The fury at my cheating partner. The crash of bodies needing something more than truth.I stood frozen, caught in the moment.

  • When the Mafia Lord Falls   21. Tell Me What You Want

    The silence between us was louder than the music still pulsing behind us. I didn’t dare look back. Not at the booth, not at the other dancers, not even at Isla, though I could feel her eyes searing a warning into my spine.Elian didn’t touch me. He didn’t need to. His presence guided me like a hook beneath my skin, dragging me in his wake, through the hallways, past velvet ropes and guards who looked away the moment they saw him.We took a different elevator, this one required a keycard. He slid it without a word, and the doors sealed shut behind us with a hiss that sounded too much like finality.Just him.Just me.And the soft hum of the ascent.I tried not to fidget. My fingers twitched against the hem of my too-short dress. The flip phone was still in his hand. I couldn’t stop staring at it.He didn’t look at me. Didn’t speak. Just stared ahead at his reflection in the mirror-paneled walls like a statue car

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