Her body fit against mine like it was designed for it. When I felt her heart racing against my chest, I knew I was taking her home. Not maybe. Not if things went well. I was taking her to a hotel room and I was keeping her there until I'd memorized every sound she could make.
The kiss in the alley sealed it. She tasted like tequila and innocence and something addictive I couldn't name. When I told her exactly what would happen if she got in my car—that I was taking her to a hotel, that I was going to spend all night taking her apart—I expected her to run.
She said yes instead.
That was it. She was mine. Whether she knew it yet or not.
The sex was... fuck. The sex was everything. I'd been with plenty of women. Knew my way around a woman's body. But this was different. She was responsive in a way that drove me insane. Every touch made her gasp. Every kiss made her moan. She gave herself over completely, trusting me to lead her through something she'd never experienced.
And then I found out she was a virgin.
Something primal locked into place in my chest. She was mine. First. Only. I'd marked her in the most fundamental way possible. Claimed her. She belonged to me now.
I wanted everything. Her name, her number, her history, her future. But she was holding back. I could tell. There were secrets in those brown eyes.
Part of me wanted to push. Demand answers. The otherpart—the part that was dangerously close to obsessed after just a few hours—decided to let her have her mysteries. For now.
I'd find her after. Track her down. Make her mine for real this time.
I woke up to an empty bed.
She was gone. No note. No number. No trace except the lingering scent of her on the sheets and the marks my fingers had left on her hips.
For a solid minute, I just lay there, staring at the empty space beside me. Girls didn't walk away from me. Ever. I was the one who left. I set the terms. I controlled the narrative.
But she'd just... disappeared.
I was pissed. And impressed. And absolutely determined to find her.
I called Marco while I was getting dressed. Had him start digging. Find the girl from last night. There couldn't be that many beautiful, virginal brunettes who'd been at that specific club. Someone would know her.
That was two weeks ago, and we were no closer to finding out who she was. This could only mean one thing—she came from a mafia family. They were the ones known for keeping their daughters secret, hidden away like precious commodities until they were ready to be traded.
When I figured that out, I knew who to ask. Father Benedetto. The old priest knew everyone in our world, saw everything, heard confessions from half the families in the city. If anyone could point me in the right direction, it was him.
I was in my car, halfway to the church, when my phone rang.
My father's name on the screen made my jaw clench. What the fuck did he want now?
"Get back to the estate. Now."
"I'm busy—"
"Now, Kai. We have business that requires your attention."
The call disconnected. Because of course my father didn't wait for responses. He just expected obedience.
I drove back, frustration building with every mile. I was so close to finding her. So close to tracking down the girl who'd disappeared from my bed and my thoughts ever since.
But my father's summons couldn't be ignored. Not without consequences.
When I walked into the estate, I headed straight for his study. Got this over with so I could get back to what actually mattered.
My father was alone when I entered, sitting behind his massive desk like a king on a throne.
"You wanted to see me."
"Sit."
