Aria's POV

Just as another car pulled up with a loud screeching sound against the coal-tiled pavement, I felt my entire body tense. My hand gripped the gun tighter, and my heart was almost racing as my mind was already bracing for another wave of chaos.

'Still on the first day, is this what I will have to face every single day?' I thought to myself.

For a moment, I thought the Giovanni men were back because, honestly, I wasn't ready for round two-not without having had a perfect 30 minutes of peace of mind since I got in contact with Kraven. But then, I have to do the needful.

He turned to me and noticed the way I was still holding onto the gun like it was my last lifeline.

"That's my men over there," he said calmly the moment he observed the plate number of the car that had just pulled over. "They're late, yeah, but it's better late than never. By now, you should know that as long as you're with me, nothing will happen to you."

I nodded and relaxed my grip just a little. "It's fine. Thank you," I replied quietly. But inside, I was still guarded. Trust didn't come easy, not anymore.

Then, out of nowhere, he threw a question that made my stomach twist.

"That reminds me, how were you able to pull a trigger like that? Aren't you supposed to be an artist? Do artists pull triggers too?"

I swallowed hard, keeping my face as neutral as I could. "Let's just say... it just happened. Self-defense can make people do things they didn't think they could. That's all there is to it."

He let out a soft chuckle; he would have been more amused than anything. "And you expect me to believe that real quick?"

"You really need to believe it," I said, meeting his gaze. "Because it's the truth."

He stared at me longer than felt comfortable, as if trying to read something written between my words.

"Anyway," he said finally, "no matter how badly you don't want to admit it, I see something in you. And the best word to describe it is 'potential. Something I could use. But listen carefully-on this side of the world, I don't trust anyone. So I'll let it slide, but my eyes are on you."

Before I could respond, the car door opened, and three men stepped out. Tall, dressed in black, all looking alert. One of them approached Kraven. They took a little moment in the car; I wouldn't know what they might have discussed in there, but somehow I cared less about that.

"Hello, boss, sorry we couldn't get here early," one of them goes on to explain. "We had to make sure the coast was clear before arriving. Sorry for any inconvenience this might have caused you."

Kraven gave a slight nod. "It's fine. You know, at least you are here now. Besides, you could see we already have them gunned down."

I noticed the shocked expression they had on when they heard that-"We had them gunned down." But then, Kraven wasn't even interested in explaining to them that I shot one dead person while he took care of the other three.

Kraven walked over to the bodies on the ground, and I watched as he crouched slightly and studied them carefully. There was a shift in his expression-more like something calculating. Then he turned back to me.

"Aria, right?" he said.

"Yeah. That's my name."

"You claimed you only pulled the trigger in self-defense," he said, gesturing to the dead men I did shoot. "But the guy you shot got it straight in the forehead. That's not something just anyone pulls off. You know that, right? Only someone who's handled a gun-really handled one-could manage that."

I held my breath, but I tried so much that my face gave nothing away.

"Let's just say I was lucky... who knows, desperate as well," I replied. "That kind of combination can make people hit bullseyes."

He didn't look convinced. He stepped toward me with his eyes narrowed.

"I'll only believe you," he said, "if you can prove it at my will."

I didn't respond because at this point there was nothing I could say that would change his mind. Again, trying to defend something too much tends to look like lies, and I have always known that silence was safer than overexplaining.

"Let's go," he said and walked toward the car.

I followed him, sliding into the passenger seat beside him. The other men got into their own car and trailed behind us.

The drive lasted about thirty minutes, quiet except for the hum of the road and the occasional street lamp shining by. I didn't speak. Neither did he. But I kept checking the mirrors, watching for tails. That's an old habit of mine that has lasted for a lifetime.

Eventually, he pulled into a small parking space outside a corner restaurant. It looked modest-nothing too flashy.

"You can stay in the car or join me," he said. "I want to grab some pizza, and this is my best spot in town for that."

Before I could respond, he was already out and shutting the door behind him.

I let out a breath. My heart was still beating faster than I liked in a manner I couldn't help it. Just as I was about to open the door and follow, my phone rang. I pulled it out quickly and answered when I saw the name.

"Hello, sir," I said.

"Progress report." Mr. Thompson's voice was as dry and direct as always.

"From how it's going, I'll probably get time alone with him tonight, and that's definitely a headway."

"Good job," he said. "Now, a new objective is-make sure you go home with the target. At all costs."

I froze. You could imagine such guts he got.

That request made my skin crawl. For a second, I considered pushing back because that made me look like a low-budget prostitute. But I knew better. I was on duty. And duty came first, no matter how it made me feel.

"Copy that," I said.

The call ended and I dropped the phone on my lap and stared out the window.

Eating with the devil? Then I better get myself a longer spoon.

Just then another thought came-what if he had the car bugged? My eyes moved across the dashboard. Kraven didn't strike me as the trusting type. He could've planted a recorder in here easily. I made a mental note-next time, no calls in the car. A message would've been smarter to the best of my knowledge.

As I couldn't follow him up immediately, there was no need to do that now, and I had to stay back.

Minutes later, Kraven returned. He knocked on the window, holding a brown paper bag and two sodas.

"You didn't bother coming in with me. You know, you never cease to give me more reasons to see you as a suspect and I think I know what you are up to this time." He snapped the moment he got to the car.

Mia's POV

To my surprise, after he made that last comment when he got into the car, we didn't speak again. The silence between us was sharp, and at the same time heavy. I spent most of the ride stealing glances at him, trying to read his face, but it was unreadable. I kept rehearsing his address in my head, matching it with the streets we passed, and everything pointed to this being his house as he brought the car to a temporary halt.

He rolled down his window using a button beside the door handle and then picked up a small black remote. He pressed a button in the remote, and I watched as the gate slowly slid open to one side. It moved smoothly, noiselessly, almost like it was part of the scene in a movie.

He drove in, we both got down from the car, and my jaw might as well have hit the floor.

The mansion stood tall and wide, a commanding structure that seemed to dominate the entire space. It was a modern duplex, but it didn't stop there as I continued to observe while I walked right behind him.

The exterior was dressed in sleek black stone and white finishing, floor-to-ceiling windows reflecting the setting sun like glass eyes. The compound was huge, with trimmed hedges bordering both sides and a marble walkway leading to the double-door entrance. Two large stone lion statues flanked the stairs, adding to the grandeur.

At the centre of the space, a water fountain in the middle of the roundabout driveway gurgled peacefully.

This is one of the best houses I've ever seen in my life.

The don boss for a reason. The man has taste, a serious taste, I must say.

Even with how perfect it all looked, it hit me how easily one could miss what and who he really was. There was nothing suspicious from the outside. No guards with rifles pacing the fence. No signs. No camera bulges. That's the point.

Disguise.

Precision.

Again, from what I'd gathered, even the police were on their payrolls. Everything about him was all coordinated, I suppose.

"Welcome to my place," he said as he noticed the demeanor I had, with those unreadable expressions of his.

"Thank you," I replied. "Your place is really cool," I said as I shut the door of the first space we got in, behind me. "And smells friggin' delicious."

"It's fine," he said, stepping around to my side. "Let's get inside the main house."

'Oh, this isn't even the main deal?' I thought to myself, before replying. "Sure, that's cool."

He led the way through the walkway, the soft light from hidden ground fixtures casting gentle glows across the pavement. I followed behind, unsure if I was supposed to admire the place or remain alert. Inside what he referred to as the 'main house,' was no less impressive. The interior was rich but not loud. Everything was modern-clean lines, and expensive art hanging from the walls.

He climbed the staircase, and I trailed behind. We stopped at a door he pushed open gently.

"This is the master bedroom. You'll be staying here tonight."

His words made me freeze.

"With you?" I asked, turning to him sharply.

His lips twitched, but I wasn't sure it was a smile.

"Yeah, Aria," he said in that low, sarcastic version of my own tone, and there was no playfulness in his voice.

I tried to stay calm and tried to look confident, but his eyes were too focused. Like he was seeing something inside my skin. Then, just like that, he took a step closer.

I didn't see that coming. My body stiffened.

He closed the space between us until I could feel his breath, warm and steady, brushing against my hair. A shiver crawled down my spine, and I hated that it wasn't entirely from fear. I took a step back, but he stepped forward again-closing that space like it had offended him.

He was tall, and the way he loomed over me, it felt like the room shrank. Then he leaned in, close enough to graze his lips against my throat. The slight caress with his index finger was feather-light, but it sent a jolt right through me.

I should have expected it of a man like him, someone who is very dominant and prides himself on who he is.

His scent in the closet is making the pressure in my core irresistible even though he hasn't done anything except smell fantasies. To think that he hadn't even touched me fully, but my body was already humming with something I didn't want I couldn't just place right.

"Can I take my bath?" I asked quickly with a shaky voice. "I'm feeling hot."

"Can I take my bath? I am feeling hot."

I asked him almost trembling, not like I was actually feeling that way, but if that's what it's required to take down this pressure that I couldn't resist, so be it.

"Why do you look this scared," he said, his finger tracing a line up my arm this time. I could bet he saw the fear in my eyes, "when I haven't even touched this sexy body of yours yet?"

His voice was deep, yet smooth, and so it sent my nerves into a frenzy.

I swallowed hard. I wasn't necessarily scared. But he was triggering something I'd buried long ago.

Since the night I had that one careless one-night stand-the night that gave me Ramson-I had avoided intimacy. That had been my first and only time. I was young and drunk, and I didn't know that the liquor had contents that could increase one's lipido.

The rest was history, it was indeed a memorable experience but unfortunately, up till now, I haven't been able to come across the father of my child. Not to talk of having anything to trace whom he is aside from the necklace he left behind.

And since it's more of a masculine necklace, my son has it on his neck after he turned 6.

Since then, I have never allowed myself in a closed space with a man. Not like this. Not even close.

But now here I am.

His finger was still on my skin, and all I could do was think of the million inappropriate thoughts flooding my mind and no matter how hard to try to wave it away, it never did leave.

"What are you thinking right now, my Cinderella?" he asked suddenly, a smirk forming on his lips.

I blinked. "Nothing," I muttered.

The blush on my cheeks betrayed me. I could feel the heat rising, and the smug look on his face said he noticed.

He took a step back, finally giving me space to breathe. I turned to look around the room-massive king-size bed, dim lights, floor-to-ceiling curtains, and a walk-in closet half-open, revealing rows of shoes and jackets.

"There's only one bed in here," I said, slowly turning back. "And from the look of things, there are a lot of rooms in this house. I can stay in another one."

"Of course, we're sleeping in the same bed," he said coolly, not even blinking. "And your opinion doesn't count right now. You're my possession."

My jaw dropped slightly. "How would you say that? I don't belong to you. I'm not a possession."

He took another step toward me, his face seemed even more serious this time.

"As far as I brought you into my home, you are mine. That implies I own you, but not like a thing. It's more... in a priceless way."

He paused and locked eyes with me.

"In essence, you are mine to protect. And from now onward, I have no intention of ever letting another man have you. So yeah, maybe it sounds possessive. Maybe it is. You better get used to it and to your skull too."

"Get used to it?" I repeated, like he had just said the most ridiculous thing in the world.

He didn't back down. He walked up to me, slow and steady, and leaned in again. His gaze was so intense, I felt like my knees might give out.

Then he did it again-gently nipping at my throat like a predator marking territory. I flinched, but he didn't care.

"Yes, you heard me right," he whispered. "And just so you're clear-I won't share your kisses, your love, or your body with anyone. Ever."

What was this? An oath? A warning? A declaration?

I stared at him, stunned. Was he serious? Or just trying to scare me?

I'd heard that mafia men could be controlling, but this? This felt like a military rule disguised as affection. I couldn't decide if I was flattered or suffocating.

"I mean..." I struggled for words, "You didn't even know me before now. What if I had a boyfriend? What if I was seeing someone before you met me?"

He let out a small, almost mocking laugh. "You don't need to look that way," he said. "When I want something, I keep it. And right now, that's you."