10 - ZARA

We arrived at the Lion Hearts casino. I was forced to hold Marcello's arm on the way inside. I took in the atmosphere, full of rich old men trying to get even richer. I'd never been to a casino before.

Marcello made his way to a table at the other side of the room.

"Hi Angelo," he greeted, to the man who sat down in the middle of the table.

"Ciao, Marcello," Angelo replied. "Sei arrivato qui bene? Did you get here okay?"

"Yes," he replied.

Angelo's eyes darted towards me. "And this is?"

"My fiancé," Marcello replied.

Angelo nodded, and we proceeded to sit down.

"So then, let's talk about business," said Angelo. "The Sicilian Mafia are attempting to take over our territory. We need to send out a warning hit to their connect to warn them not to fuck with us."

"No, no, no, a war is the last thing I need," Marcello sighed. "It's not the right time. My father is taking over an Oud fragrance business in order to launder our money faster, meaning that we will be able to expand The Camorra to the United Kingdom, and not just Italy. My marriage needs to go through smoothly, too."

Angelo narrowed his eyes. "Well, if you are expanding to the United Kingdom, you can take over the Sicilian Mafia's operations there, too. I believe they operate in Manchester."

"That's the perfect idea," Marcello nodded in approval.

The men sitting next to Angelo were staring at me as if I was a piece of meat, their eyes darting from my face to my cleavage constantly, and it made me sick to my stomach. I hated the way that they were staring at me, and was getting more and more anxious and uneasy.

I scratched my arm nervously, trying not to focus on them, and allowed my eyes to wander around the room, getting bored of Marcello's business conversation.

And as I rotated my head anti-clockwise, I noticed a man staring at me. He was standing at the bar with his friend. The man looked Italian, but his friend looked foreign, perhaps Indian or Pakistani.

I felt unsettled by the way that the man was staring at me. He wasn't staring at me with lust, or in a predatory way like the men at my table were. He was staring at me with a different look.

With intrigue, curiosity.

More than anything…

He was staring at me with concern.

As if he could visibly see how uncomfortable I was, sitting by Marcello's side.

I could feel my heart hammer against my chest, as his eyes continued to burn into mine, and I felt a foreign feeling inside of me. A feeling that I'd never felt before, and wasn't quite sure what it was.

The man was astonishingly good-looking. He was easily the best looking man I'd ever laid eyes on in my life. He didn't look much older than around thirty. He had a dark, scruffy beard, olive skin, thick eyebrows, pale green eyes, and he had a rugged appearance. Scars on his face, as if every single scar had an untold story. He looked full of mystery…

Full of secrets.

And I couldn't help but to find myself more curious about him.

His face wasn't the only sexy thing about him. He was wearing a tight white shirt, that left little to the imagination. He was covered in tattoos… Tattoos that looked like they represented something, but I didn't know what.

He looked like a jigsaw puzzle…

And I found myself wanting to put the pieces together and solve him.