Games With Mr. Red, The Mafia Lord

MILLICENT'S POINT OF VIEW

"1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6..." I counted under my breath as I waited for the elevator to reach his side of the building. I checked the watch on my wrist to see if I was late.

Franco was supposed to pick me up at seven for our dinner date at De La Coste. I waited for almost three hours, and he was nowhere in sight. I was worried sick. What could be the reason why my boyfriend of two years would stand me up like that on the night of our anniversary? Besides, Franco is not known for such behavior.

Yes, we had our differences, just like every other couple out there, but this was not how I planned to spend my night. Maybe something came up, I thought, as the sound of the elevator brought me to my senses. I made my way toward his room, still clad in the red dress he got me for our date.

Getting his keys from my clutch, I tucked the strands of my hair behind my ear before accessing the room. Everything looked the same, except for the bottle of red wine and two glasses on the table.

Did he have a visitor, or was I just overthinking things? I tried to call him, but his number went straight to voicemail, just like the first few times I tried calling.

Sighing softly, I turned to leave but stopped in my tracks when I heard sounds that left me shocked to my bones.

"Franco... ooo," came a female voice, followed by moans and groans. My legs moved toward the direction of the sounds before I could stop myself, and I pushed the door open.

Right there on the bed was my boyfriend of two years with a woman I could barely recognize, riding the living daylights out of him, on our supposed two-year anniversary.

I didn't say anything. I couldn't speak even if I tried, the words failed to leave my mouth.

"Millicent, Milli!" I heard him call as he hurried behind me. I got into the elevator before he could stop me, but knowing Franco, I was pretty sure he joined the other elevator.

"Babe!"

"Babe! I'm sorry, please," he pleaded as his hands grabbed my wrist. I slapped him angrily with the other.

"I'm sorry, babe. Trust me, it was a mistake," he blurted out, and my eyes widened in disbelief.

"A mistake? Do you even feel remorseful for what you've done? Franco, you cheated on me on our anniversary, and you call it a mistake?" I demanded, my voice breaking at the edges.

This was someone I gave two years of my life, someone I chose to trust, yet he threw my heart on the floor and stomped on it a million times.

"No amount of apology will make up for this, Franco," I said, trailing off, and he scoffed angrily.

"You think all of this is my fault? You have a mind of your own, doing things on your own accord, and you think the world revolves around you! I stayed with you because of what you have to offer, a hardworking girlfriend with a generous heart!" he snapped, and I stared at him, my heart breaking painfully.

"Thank you so much for showing me your true colors, Franco. You know what? It's over between us. Thank God I never thought of accepting your stupid proposal to get married. Bastard!" I shouted angrily. When he tried to hold my hand again, I turned and dug my nails into his face. As he screamed in agony, I walked to where I packed my car.

I'm pretty sure I ruined his pretty face. The blood stains on my finger nails were enough evidence. I cursed under my breath over and over again as I drove toward the bar.

I need alcohol in my system before I lose my mind. Franco used me, it was pretty obvious now when I think about all the red flags I overlooked in this relationship.

I mean, he was broke throughout the time we were dating, up until the moment I caught him moaning like his life depended on it.

Life has never been a bed of roses for me, it's always been from one madness to another. Mom cheated on my dad and left for a richer man. My dad could not bear the brunt of the situation and committed suicide, leaving a whole lot of debt for me to clean up.

I grew up on the streets of Sicily, running from one debtor to the other while trying to build a life for myself. I'm no innocent novice when it comes to the madness that runs the streets.

I worked for a con artist at the age of eight. He took me in as his own daughter and taught me the ropes of the business. Paulo might have been a conniving bastard, but he gave me the life I have today. He cleared off my debts, and I retired to the exclusive part of the business two years ago with enough money in my bank account.

I started up Ecstasy, my fashion brand, and things have been going smoothly. Adding the broken Franco to my list of problems was stupid on my part.

I'm twenty seven, how did I let Franco waste two years of my life? Tears rolled out of my eyes as I wore my shades and pulled my hair up into a ponytail.

"Give me something strong, very strong," I requested from the bartender as I sat all alone, trying to ease the pain in my chest.

"More," I demanded, and he stared at me like I had completely lost it. I had lost count of how many shots I emptied, but I just wanted to stop the pain in my chest. It hurt way too much, I just wanted it to end.

First, it was my mom, and then my dad. I can't imagine the long line of betrayal that awaits me after what Franco just did.

I left the chair and made my way to the dance floor. I felt a manly strong hand wrap around my waist, and the last thing I remembered was his hands making their way into my dress and the delicious sensations that followed.

RED'S POINT OF VIEW

"Merde," I cursed under my breath as I stood up from the bed and took a drag from the pipe in my hand. I listened to the reports from my cousin. There is trouble at the estate, according to his report, one of our warehouses was burned to the ground, killing a few of our men and clients in the process.

No one knew the identity of the men involved in the accident. The most annoying thing about the situation was the fact that we lost a lot, and the location of that deal was not known to the vast majority. I was in charge of the chip that had every single piece of information about that deal.

I rushed to the lockers in the hotel room as I tried to find the chip, went through the pockets of my ripped jeans, yet it wasn't there. How could I have been so careless? At this point, I was anxious as I thought of the disaster that awaited me.

Typing on my phone, I sent for my private jet while anxiously waiting for another report.

I am a part of the Sicilian mafia, or the Cosa Nostra, as it's called. Everyone knows what the mafia represents: a chain of illegal businesses, the fight for power, money, and the bloodshed that follows the game.

My name is Red De Luca, my closest family calls me Frederico orFred and I'm the current boss of the De Luca crime family. The De Lucas are the number one crime family in the country, known for their victories in handling crimes and their extreme smartness.

The business started with our ancestors and has been passed down from one generation to the next. This time around, it went from my uncle to me.

The De Lucas hold power in every aspect of life, in business, technology, and the government. We've made top businessmen in and out of the country, and our shareholders hold the high ranks.

I'm a hotelier running my own chain of the most luxurious hotels, suites, and penthouses. For me, family, business, and power are the most important things in the world.

Especially my family. I grew up in a large household. It's crazy because my grandparents had six male children, although the fifth was born out of wedlock and the last one adopted. No one knows the difference because they all grew up in love and unity.

Today, we all move in their footsteps, having that beautiful bond as children, although we lost my grandfather a few years ago.

The family is organized, and we work hard to protect the family name. And yes, I've got a lot of cousins, one brother from my parents and 14 cousins. Let me not get started on how much I detest family dinners.

The unending advice from our mamas to get married, if my mom had her way, she'd send me out with a signboard saying, "Wife Needed."

"Good morning, Boss," my driver greeted as he pulled the door open for me.

"Good morning, Mr. De Luca. Are we heading to the office directly?" my personal assistant asked as he scrolled through his work pad and then looked back at me.

"There's trouble. I can't go to the office directly, Cade," I replied, and he blinked in curiosity.

"Is it a hangover from last night? Should I get you some lemonade to help?" he inquired, and I shook my head.

"The De Luca estate," I instructed the driver, who nodded as he drove toward the family estate. I racked my brain, trying to figure out how I lost the chip.

It must have been the drinks from last night because the more I tried to think, the blurrier everything in my mind became.

"Cade, can you remember how I went about my day yesterday? I can't seem to grab anything, and as we speak, I think I'm in some serious sh!t," I muttered, and he blinked in surprise.

"Should I be worried, sir? Did you get someone pregnant? Are you getting married?" he asked, and I stared at him like he'd lost his mind.

"Why do you think that's the biggest problem I could get myself into?" I questioned, and he blinked again.

"You're always careful when it comes to those things, sir," he answered, and I rubbed my forehead.

"Tell me about last night, Cade," I requested, and he rubbed his hands together.

"Nothing out of the ordinary, at least until you went to the bar to cool off. You seemed preoccupied with the beautiful woman on the dance floor."

"Beautiful woman?" I repeated as flashes from last night came to mind.

"The lady in red," I muttered under my breath, and he nodded.

"As beautiful as a goddess. I believe you both spent the night together, if I'm not mistaken..." he added with a smile, and I cursed under my breath.

FvCK.

That only meant I did not spend the night alone, and if I didn't, the mysterious woman from last night was responsible for this disaster.

She was nothing but a beautiful disaster, and I have to get my hands on her. She has a lot of explanation to do, not just to me but to the whole familia.