Never in her life had Sofia thought that that was how her first encounter with Don Vincenzo would be like. From what she had known, the man was a cold, calculating bastard. But the one who had held her that night had been nothing but a hurting man, a man who had simply wanted comfort.
She knew the kind of things he had done, the kind of things he did everyday. But what she hadn't anticipated was that those things had affected him too. His was a tortured soul, seeking solace in strangers he did not know much about. It made him human, stripping away whatever fear she'd held for him.
A week had passed with no signs of him. She had been told that he often frequented this club and was known to pick the same stripper each time he visited until he eventually bored of her and moved on the next one.
With a sheer stroke of luck and a little bit of manipulation on her part, she'd managed to snag him the first time. Now all she had to do was wait for his next visit.
As the dee-jay announced her name along with two others, she made her way over to the stage, clad in her costume for the night. She had gone with a red lace push up bra which showed ample cleavage, a matching G-string with a garter and sky high heels.
As the first song of the set of three she was supposed to dance to began, she gripped the pole with both her hands. Pole dancing was one of the things about this job she loved the most.
She had been passionate about dancing ever since she was little. It was her sanctuary, where she could simply let loose and get lost in the way her body moved around the pole.
She often tended to forget the people around her when she danced but tonight, she was acutely aware of a certain set of eyes on her.
It was a man standing at the balcony above, and even though his face was hidden in the shadows, she knew without a doubt who he was. Knowing it was him watching, she made sure to put on her best show, expertly moving her body around the burlesque pole, almost as if she owned it.
And own it, she did, if all the hoots and hollers thrown her way were any indication along with the several dollar bills strewn all over the raised platform by the end of the first song.
The dee-jay praised the girls before playing the next song.
Just as Sofia grabbed the pole, ready to perform a spin, a tap on her shoulder from behind made her stop.
She turned around to find another girl. She gave Sofia a smile. "You're required upstairs. I'll take over here."
Sofia simply nodded, already knowing who required her before exiting the stage.
She looked up where she had seen him before the moment she was on the floor again, feeling his eyes on her every move. Goosebumps prickling along her skin, she made her way up the stairs and towards him, towards Vincenzo Moretti.
Seeing her approach, Vincenzo turned and walked into one of the lounges with the same set of guards posted outside which she'd previously seen.
Sofia followed him inside quietly, only to find him sitting languidly, drink in hand.
"That was quite a performance you put on there, gattina," his words made Sofia smile.
"Of course. I aim to impress, Mr Moretti."
Vincenzo nodded, extending his free hand towards her much like he had the last time he had been here.
Sofia walked towards him, watching as he raked his eyes over her body, a hint of mischief glinting in them, and something else, something dangerous, sinister. It made her blood heat up.
Energy crackled between them as she placed her hand in his and he pulled her towards him.
Tonight, the mood was different.
The last time he had been there, he'd been calm, hurting. But tonight, the air around him felt charged, one wrong move and she'll be singed alive, scorched by the fire burning in his chocolate brown eyes. And what was scary was that she'd happily let him do it and enjoy it, too.
Bringing his mouth close to her ear as she sat in his lap, he whispered, "Tell me, gattina, what other talents do you have, hmm?"
She looked into his eyes as she answered, lips pulled up into a sultry smile. "Wouldn't you want to know, Mr Moretti?"
Vincenzo smirked at her. "That's what I like about you. You're not easy, throwing yourself all over me. You've got some class, Blaze."
"I might be a stripper, but I definitely have more self respect than that. I only do what my clients ask of me, not more, definitely not less."
"As you should, gattina," Vincenzo murmured, placing a soft kiss where her shoulder met her neck.
"Gattina," Sofia said. "Why do you call me that? What does it mean?"
"Because you're my wild, little kitten, il mio gattina," Vincenzo replied, running his nose along the curve of her neck, his heavy Italian accent making her lower abdomen pinch with heat.
"Wild, huh? What makes you think that?" Sofia whispered, closing her eyes and craning her neck to allow him better access.
"Let's just say I'm a good judge of character," Vincenzo murmured into her neck, his voice sounding heavy with need.
Need for her, she realised with a jolt. The man wanted her. Good.
Slowly, but surely, she was getting there. The one goal that had been embedded into her head was that she had to get close to the Don. Close enough to get access to his house where she could gather any and every piece of information she could about his organisation. If things continued the way they were going, she was hopeful that the day would come soon enough when he took her with him, introduced her to his world.
She let him pull her close and place soft kisses down the side of her neck.
A little bit of kissing and touching was allowed as long as both parties were comfortable. But that was all she'd ever allowed. Or at least those were what the rules were.
Sure, some girls tended to go home with the guy later for a certain price, but it wasn't something she had ever done. That was where she drew the line. But with him, she wasn't so sure.
The man was sinfully attractive, confident, powerful, his energy undeniable. With a snap of his fingers, he could make the world stop, jump, roll over.
And that kind of control was hot, pulling her to him like a moth to a flame.
"You do not understand Italian, do you?" Vincenzo asked.
"No. I do understand Irish, though. My birth parents were Irish and my adoptive ones did not want me to loose touch with my ethnicity. They made sure I learnt it well," Sofia answered.
Suddenly, Vincenzo pulled back, the veil of lust previously covering his eyes lifting in a snap. "Irish, you say?" He asked, his voice sharp.
Slowly, Sofia nodded. "Yes."
Vincenzo titled his head at her as if deep in thought. Picking up a lock of her flaming red hair, he twisted it around his finger. "Interesting," he murmured, more to himself than her.
A little confused at the sudden turn of events, Sofia frowned. "Is something the matter, Mr Moretti?"
"Not quite. Any other languages you speak that I should know of?" He asked.
Sofia nodded. "I can speak four. English, Irish, Russian and French. The ones who adopted me were Russian so I learnt that growing up. I took french in school and am pretty fluent."
Vincenzo raised a brow, seemingly impressed. "I have been looking for someone like you for a while, Blaze."
Now, Sofia was even more confused than before. "You have?"
Why had she not heard of this before? She'd spent months learning everything there was available to know about this man, and yet, it had never come up that the guy had wanted a translator.
It just went to show how tight of a ship he ran.
She had to tread very carefully.
"Sí, gattina," Vincenzo whispered, tugging her closer using her hair and placing his lips just below the hollow of her ear.
She shivered almost involuntarily. "Why?"
"That isn't something you need to concern yourself with right now. I will tell you what you need to know when the time is right. Let me hold you close for now," Vincenzo said, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her closer still, so her body pressed against his in the most delicious way possible.
Sofia let out a soft gasp at the sudden proximity, feeling the hard planes of his body against her soft ones. "Alright, Mr Moretti. As you wish."
And then, just like he had the last time he had been here, he cradled her head against his chest, crooning softly to her an old Italian melody she did not recognise.
However, this time she didn't allow herself to get lost in the feeling of his heady scent and strong arms wrapped around her. Her mind was too wired and thrown into overdrive at the new piece of information she had just learnt.
The man wanted a translator and apparently, she was well equipped to be one. It made her even more hopeful that she would gain entry into his life sooner rather than later. And she would definitely be more involved than she'd originally planned if she was going to be translating for him.
The thought made her happy but she was also apprehensive of what the future would hold. She knew what she was doing was dangerous. She could get killed in less than a minute if she wasn't careful.
But then again, what was life without a few risks, huh?