Chapter 3: Playing with Fire
Elijah follows the suited man through the club, weaving past tables and drunken partygoers. His heart beats steadily—not from fear, but curiosity.
Why does a mafia boss want to talk to him?
More importantly, why does he look so damn serious about it?
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The First Face-Off
The VIP section is roped off, guarded by two men in black. As Elijah approaches, the air feels heavier.
Dominic Moretti sits in the center of a luxurious black leather booth, surrounded by his men. One arm draped over the backrest, his expensive watch catching the dim club lights. He owns this space.
Elijah has seen powerful men before. But none like him.
Dark eyes locked onto Elijah—cold, unreadable.
Elijah raises a brow. Okay, dramatic much?
The suited man gestures. "Sit."
Elijah grins. "Nah, I'm good standing."
Vincent, Dominic's right-hand man, stiffens. Clearly, people don't say no to Moretti.
But Dominic? He just smirks. A slow, knowing curve of his lips.
"Cocky." His voice is smooth, deep. Dangerous.
Elijah shrugs. "So I've been told."
Dominic watches him for a long moment before speaking again.
"You have no idea what you've walked into, do you?"
Elijah tilts his head. "Not really. But hey, life's short."
For a split second, Vincent looks like he wants to grab him by the collar and shake him.
Dominic just exhales. Like Elijah is exhausting.
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The Warning (That Goes Over Elijah's Head)
Dominic swirls the drink in his hand, watching Elijah like he's studying something unpredictable.
"You're playing a dangerous game."
Elijah leans against the table, smirking. "I didn't realize I was playing."
Vincent mutters, "Unbelievable."
Dominic taps a finger against his glass. "You've caught my attention."
Elijah grins. "Flattered."
A muscle ticks in Dominic's jaw. This guy…
"Elijah." His voice drops lower. "Do you even know who I am?"
Elijah hums. "Rich guy. Probably dangerous. Maybe runs a cult—"
Vincent chokes on his drink.
Dominic just stares at him. What the hell is this guy?
"Elijah," he finally says, voice calm, too calm. "You don't want my attention."
Elijah pouts dramatically. "Damn. And here I thought we were bonding."
Vincent looks like he's about to throw him out himself.
But Dominic? He just leans back, eyes unreadable.
"…You're reckless."
Elijah winks. "You have no idea."
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The Escape… For Now
Before Dominic can say anything else, someone calls his name—a rival mafia associate waiting to discuss business.
Dominic flicks his gaze back to Elijah. "Leave. Now."
Elijah raises both hands. "Alright, alright. No need to be dramatic."
He turns to leave but pauses, grinning over his shoulder. "Hey, this was fun. Let's do it again sometime."
Vincent looks ready to explode.
Dominic just watches him go, fingers tightening around his glass.
This reckless, playful idiot has no idea what he's just done.
And worse?
Dominic isn't sure he wants him to stop.
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