Back at my desk, I scanned the office. Men in expensive suits with stone-cold faces prowled the halls.

Any one of them could be Rex.

My only saving grace was that I’d never sent him a picture of my face. He couldn’t recognize me.

I opened our chat history again, combing through every line.

Finally, I found it. A conversation from last month. He’d told me he was shopping on the Magnificent Mile in Chicago, looking for cufflinks for a big event, and asked me to help him choose.

I’d picked out a pair of custom black onyx cufflinks with gold trim. He’d bought them.

I stood up, pretending to get coffee, and walked the hallways, my eyes glued to every man’s wrists.

Most wore long sleeves. The few cufflinks I saw were just generic styles.

Nothing.

I went back to my desk. An idea sparked. I had to test it.

I sent a text to Rex:

“Hey, you wearing those cufflinks I picked out for you?”

He replied almost instantly. “Of course.”

“I wear them every day. A reminder of you.”

Just then, the internal phone on my desk rang.

“Liliana, my office. Now.” It was my boss, Marco.

Marco Rossi was in his early thirties, with brown hair and dark eyes. He was a Capo in the family, high enough up to report directly to the Don, Alessandro Falcone.

I walked to his office, but as I reached the door, I heard his voice from inside.

It wasn't his usual cold, hard tone. It was soft, so sweet it made my skin crawl.

“Baby, I miss you,” he was saying to someone on the phone. “Come see me at the office later, okay?”

“I might have to work late tomorrow. The Don’s making an appearance to check on things… I have to be ready.” Marco’s voice was laced with respect, almost fear.

Don Alessandro. The head of the entire Falcone family. A man who was rumored to be ruthless.

“Okay, baby. See you soon.” Marco hung up.

I knocked on the door.

“Come in.”

“Liliana, have a seat.” He pointed to the chair across from his desk. “About tomorrow’s board meeting, I need you to prepare a detailed report.”

“Yes, sir,” I said, trying to keep my voice professional.

Marco started explaining the requirements, but as he reached for a glass of water on his desk, my eyes locked onto his cuffs.

And there they were. Gleaming. A pair of black onyx cufflinks with gold trim.

The exact same ones I’d picked for Rex.

My pen slipped from my fingers, clattering to the floor.

“What’s wrong?” Marco looked up, his brow furrowed.

“N-nothing.” I bent down to pick up the pen, my heart hammering against my ribs. “It just slipped.”

“Boss, your cufflinks… they’re unique,” I said, my voice trembling slightly.

Marco glanced down at his wrist, a small smile playing on his lips. “You think so? They are pretty nice, right?”

I pushed, needing to be sure. “Where did you get them?”

He frowned, confused. “The Magnificent Mile.”

“Why, you like them?”

I forced a casual smile and waved it off.

“Oh, no reason. Just curious.”

Then I practically ran out of there.

I stumbled back to my desk, my mind reeling. I was almost certain: Marco was "Rex."

But if that was true, who was he calling "baby" on the phone?

Was he cheating on me with a secret lover?

Oh, my God.

An hour later, a stunning blonde walked into Marco’s office.

I pretended to organize files nearby, straining to listen.

“Baby, I missed you,” Marco’s voice was syrupy sweet again. It made my stomach turn.

“You look extra handsome today,” the woman cooed.

“I wore the new suit,” Marco said. “And the cufflinks you like. I want to make a good impression when I meet your parents tonight.”

“Darling, you’re already perfect. My father is going to love you.”

Meeting her parents? New suit? The cufflinks she likes?

The truth hit me like a ton of bricks.

I was just the side piece. The fun little secret he used to help him pick out date-night accessories. An online mistress he could keep in the dark.

And the blonde, she was the one he was serious about. The one he was taking home to mommy and daddy.

My heart shattered, and a wave of nausea washed over me.

All those sweet messages for three months, the words that made me blush… they were all lies. I was just a plaything to him, something to be tossed aside.

With trembling hands, I pulled out my phone and sent one last message to Rex:

“You’re a scumbag. We’re done.”

Then, without a second’s hesitation, I blocked and deleted him.

Done. I leaned against the wall, taking deep breaths, trying to fight back the anger and humiliation.

A few minutes later, Marco walked out, hand-in-hand with his girlfriend, and saw her to the door.

He didn’t even look fazed.

A bitter taste filled my mouth, but I tried to console myself. At least no one knew about my pathetic little secret.

If I couldn’t have love, I would have my career.

I was a smart woman. I wasn’t about to throw away a high-paying job over some guy.

The next day, Marco called me into the conference room to present a business plan to Don Alessandro.

It was my first time seeing the legendary Don up close.

Alessandro Falcone sat on the sofa, and he wasn't the old, gray-haired man I’d imagined. He was young, with deep-set gray eyes that seemed to strip you bare.

He wore a custom navy-blue suit that made him look even more handsome.

My eyes lingered on the suit for a second.

I remembered telling Rex once that I loved a man in a navy suit, that it was more mysterious than black.

Just a coincidence, I told myself.

“Miss Liliana, you may begin,” his voice was a low, magnetic rumble that demanded attention.

I forced myself to stay calm and launched into my report on financial data and market analysis.

The whole time, Alessandro listened in silence, occasionally nodding or asking a sharp, insightful question.

Marco sat beside him, adding a comment here and there, but mostly he kept his head down, taking notes, looking distracted.

Probably thinking about his blonde girlfriend. A fresh pang of hurt shot through me.

When I finished, I gave a respectful nod, ready to leave, but Alessandro suddenly stopped me.

“Liliana, wait.”

He rose slowly from the sofa and walked toward me.

My instinct was to step back, but I forced myself to stand still.

He stopped right in front of me, his gray eyes fixed on a spot on my collarbone.

It was a single mole, my only birthmark. It was in an odd spot, usually hidden by my clothes, but visible when I wore a lower-cut top.

“That mark on your collarbone… it’s very distinct,” Alessandro said suddenly. His voice was laced with an unnerving familiarity, completely different from the stoic man who had been listening to my report.

Panic seized me.

I had sent Rex a picture showing my collarbone once. He’d replied, I want to kiss that mole while you’re screaming my name.

I instinctively glanced at Marco, but his face was a mask of confusion.

“Is… is it?” I stammered, covering the spot with my hand. “I guess a lot of people have them.”

Alessandro’s brow furrowed as he watched me look at Marco. He said nothing more, his gaze slowly retracting.

He sat back down on the sofa, flipping through my report.

“This is good. Perfect, in fact.”

Marco’s face lit up. “Really, Don?”

“It’s the most detailed market analysis I’ve ever seen,” Alessandro said, his voice calm but filled with approval. “Miss Liliana’s skills are impressive.”

I felt a rush of pride. A compliment from the Don himself was no small thing.

The atmosphere lightened, and Marco even dared to joke, “Don, this is the first time I’ve ever seen you be so pleasant to a woman. You usually can’t stand them…”

He trailed off as Alessandro shot him an icy glare. Marco shrank back into his seat.

I glanced at Alessandro, curious.

The Don hated women?

Then why had he just stood so close to me?

“Liliana,” Alessandro said, turning to me. “I require a companion for an important business dinner tonight. You will accompany me.”

It wasn’t a question. It was a command.

“Of course. I would be honored,” I replied quickly.

“Good. My assistant will arrange everything for you,” Alessandro said, standing up. “Meet me in the lobby at six.”

Two hours later, I was in a high-end salon.

A team of stylists worked on my hair and makeup.

To my surprise, the gown and jewelry they had waiting for me were exactly my taste.

A simple, elegant, deep-blue silk dress.

The diamond necklace was understated but exquisite.

“These were all prepared at Mr. Falcone’s direction,” his assistant explained. “He said to choose a style that would suit you best.”

A wave of confusion washed over me.

How would Alessandro Falcone know my style?

At six o’clock sharp, I was in the lobby.

The moment Alessandro saw me, a flicker of admiration crossed his eyes.

“You look beautiful,” he said, extending his arm. “Ready?”

I felt my cheeks warm as I gently placed my hand on his arm.

The dinner was at a five-star hotel downtown, filled with Chicago’s political and business elite, as well as other mob figures. Everyone was impeccably dressed.

“Care to dance?” Alessandro asked as the music started.

I nodded, and he led me to the floor.

His large hand rested on the small of my back, his touch surprisingly hot, searing a brand through the silk of my dress and making my knees weak.

As we danced, Alessandro pulled me closer and closer, until my body was pressed flush against his chest. I could feel the heat radiating from him.

His lips deliberately brushed against my earlobe, sending a jolt straight down my spine.

For some reason, my mind flashed back to Rex and his bold, dirty talk.

This feeling… it was just like that.

I shook myself. Get a grip. Stop thinking about that asshole.

By the end of the dance, I was flushed and breathless. Alessandro, however, just had a small, satisfied smirk on his face.

“Don Falcone, and who is this lovely lady?” a middle-aged man asked as he approached us.

Alessandro’s arm tightened around me, pulling me in possessively, but he didn’t answer the man’s question.

His action was answer enough.

Feeling a bit awkward, I whispered in his ear, “I think I need a break.”

I walked over to the dessert table and picked up a piece of chocolate cake.

“You have a little something on your lip,” Alessandro said, appearing at my side. He reached out and gently wiped a crumb from the corner of my mouth with his thumb.

The gesture was so intimate, so natural, as if we were longtime lovers.

People around us were staring.

Looking at his face so close to mine, I felt my heart hammer against my ribs. So much for hating women and being celibate, I thought wryly.