Part 1: Chapter 1
He climbed out of his solid black Lamborghini Aventador and tossed the key to the valet. Never trusting these worthless dogs, he eyed him with so much malice, daring the young man to get even the smallest scratch on his car. The valet straightened up his spine and bowed his head respectfully at the clear display of authority.
Satisfied, Malik straightened his purple satin tie and buttoned the three buttons of his solid black bespoke suit as he walked up to the door of his favorite restaurant, Casa di Emilia. Dressed in a black button-up shirt and oxfords, his short black hair was styled and cut simply to create an aura of power. His facial hair was trimmed and kept short into a beard and mustache–habits of his past that prohibit him from leaving his face naked. The dark stubble also served to help hide a hideous scar from his left jawline up to his cheek.
Having been coming here every other Tuesday night for over a year, the staff were well aware of his expectations. They rarely failed to meet them which was why he continued to return.
Francesco, the manager, rushed to open the door for Malik knowing that there would be hell to pay if he did not. Francesco bowed his head, avoiding eye contact in a display of respect.
“Signore Svetoslav, welcome. Your usual table has been prepared,” Francesco informed the powerful and terrifying man.
Malik never said anything, instead choosing to nod his head as Francesco personally saw him to his seat past the long line of people waiting. Malik noticed that several of the people were eyeing him from head to toe deciding if they should say something, but everyone quickly averted their gaze when they realized he was watching them.
At his seat, the sommelier rushed out with their most expensive bottle of wine. Holding the bottle up for Malik’s inspection, Malik simply nodded as the sommelier poured a taste into his glass. Malik pinched the stem of the delicate crystal wine glass between his fingers as he swirled the deep red liquid. Lifting the glass to his nose, he inhaled the intoxicating fumes which almost threatened a smile on his face. As he pressed the glass to his perfectly shaped pink lips he poured the warming liquid onto his tongue. Closing his eyes, he savored the wonderful blend of chocolate and dark fruit.
Malik nodded his head in approval, allowing the sommelier to pour him a full glass and leave the bottle at his table. Rushing away, he could hear the sommelier exhale loudly and whisper for the waiter to hurry over. The waiter strode over shortly after to pour Malik a glass of water.
“Would you like to see the menu, Signore Svetoslav, or do you know what you want?” The waiter asked. The young man’s voice quivered as he tried to come off as confident though Malik suspected he was intimidated by his strong presence.
Malik lifted his hand to alert the nervous waiter that he did not need a menu. “I’ll start with the veal agnolotti and finish with the sliced lamb.”
“Any dessert for you today, sir?”
“No, grazie.” A man of few words did not have to be a man of ill manners.
The waiter bowed his head again and headed straight for the kitchen. As he put in Malik’s order, he alerted the kitchen staff about who the order was for. Malik was a man with very specific tastes and a refined palate. He tended to get upset if the dish was not displayed perfectly or if it was not prepared to perfection. Granted, the goal of any kitchen was to do this for every guest, but any fool would tell you that was not always the case.
Malik didn’t have to wait long for his veal agnolotti to be placed in front of him. The waiter didn’t even offer him cheese to place on his dish knowing, for Malik, that would be an insult.
A new waiter once offered him cheese and he just stared at her with an evil glint in his eye. She never showed up to work again. No one knew if he had her fired or if she was so scared that she couldn’t do it anymore.
As always, the food was prepared perfectly reminding Malik of the time he lived in Italy. The authentic presentation of the dishes recalled some of his favorite memories of his time spent along the Amalfi Coast. He lived there with his most recent lover, Giuliana–his principessa. Malik felt the all-too-familiar knot form in his throat when he thought of his beautiful Giuliana but he dampened it down, focusing on his food again.
Malik sat at his table, alone, sipping on his wine, and looking around at the plebeians that filled the restaurant. Sighing loudly, he listened to the mundane crowd tuning into the words they were saying. Different faces, same stories, same inconsequential conversations.
A woman caught his eye as she walked by in a gold, sequined gown which hugged her curves as if it were a second skin. Her long auburn hair was pulled up into an elegant ponytail allowing the curls to fall against her bare back. She was a stunning specimen by Malik’s strict standards.
He was about to turn away from her when a mark on her right shoulder blade caught his attention. The mark appeared to be a slightly pinked birthmark and blossomed against her skin in such a way, making it look like a flower. Malik’s jaw dropped to the floor as his breathing became labored. His heart thumped loudly in his chest, the heavy amplitude echoing in his ears. He continued to stare at the woman begging her to turn around so he could catch a glimpse of her face.
The exquisite woman made it to the bar and turned to face another young woman with shoulder-length blonde hair that was slightly longer in the front than the back. The woman in gold had perfectly proportioned delicate features. Her nose was slightly pointed and her high cheekbones gave her eyes an upturned almond shape. But her eyes are what captured his attention most. Her eyes were a deep, sapphire blue. Bluer than the depths of the ocean, their dimension betrayed the beautiful heart and soul she kept shielded behind a wall of mistrust.
Malik choked on the wine he tried to sip again. He was coughing and sputtering the liquid back into his glass before he could cover his mouth with his cloth napkin. He could suddenly feel all eyes staring at him, curious as to what caused such a commotion at his table.
Waving over the waiter, he instructed him to pour the woman at the bar a glass of the same wine he had for dinner and to serve it with a slice of cheesecake with both chocolate and strawberries. The waiter stared at him as if unsure what to do, but before he could question the order, Malik waved the young man away. After coming here for over a year, Malik had never once done anything like this. There had been plenty of women and businessmen attempting to get his attention, but he had never paid them any mind.
The kitchen rushed the order through for Malik posthaste. Walking up to the bar with the glass of wine and the plate of cheesecake exactly as ordered, the same waiter placed the items in front of the woman in the gold gown.
“Jumping ahead to dessert, Jo?” The woman’s companion asked in amusement.
Jo frowned at the waiter as he placed a glass of red wine and a slice of cheesecake in front of her. Looking back up at the young man, her brows pinched in confusion. “I didn’t order this,” she informed both him and her friend.
The waiter smiled tightly at her as if worried she would decline and he’d have to report back. “The gentleman insisted I deliver this to you.”
Clara, the woman sitting next to Jo, was beaming. “A gentleman? Jo, you sexy fox. And what a coincidence he ordered it exactly how you like it!”
“What gentleman?” Jo questioned the waiter, wanting to know the face of her possible admirer.
“Malik Svetoslav.” The waiter pointed to the man in all black who was walking toward the door.
“Malik Svetoslav? The reclusive billionaire?” Clara asked the waiter. Jo stared at the two of them with her mouth open wide, feeling as though she was missing something.
“The one and the same,” the waiter answered.
Jo turned back to the waiter with a brow raised quizzically. “How often does he do this?” She asked motioning toward the wine and dessert.
The waiter shook his head. “Never.”
Rushing out of her seat, Jo walked briskly to the front of the restaurant to try and catch the mysterious man in black. She found him as he was waiting by the valet stand, his hands in his pockets.
Up close, she could see that he was much taller than her even in her three-inch stilettos that Clara insisted she wear with this ridiculous gown. He had to be at least six feet eight giving him a larger-than-life appearance.
Standing there, she could also see that his shoulders were broad and tapered down to his narrow waist and hips. With his hands in his pockets, he pulled tight the material of his silk pants showing off a rump more perfect than any she’d ever seen.
His arms appeared large, and Jo assumed they were likely muscular and firm too. Reaching out to grab his attention, she touched his left bicep. She was right, his arm felt firm beneath her fingers.
Malik felt the delicate touch on his arm causing him to jerk around and see a face of perfection. He took in Jo standing in front of him, her gorgeous face holding an expression of pure determination. He couldn’t bring himself to say anything, instead getting lost in those eyes so blue.
Jo almost gasped when he turned around. He was well groomed, not a hair or whisker out of place. His nose was slightly pointed. But it was his eyes, a color she had never seen before that truly had her stopping short. They weren’t gray nor were they purple, but were the strangest mix of both. She supposed he had to be wearing contacts because the hue was so stunning and inhuman. And they were emphasized even more by the color of his tie, which was an almost perfect match.
Malik and Jo stared into each other’s eyes, losing themselves in the contrast of her blue gaze to his purple.
Jo spoke first. “Th-thank you for the dessert.” Her voice was just as beautiful and lyrical as he imagined. She held out her delicate right hand which Malik engulfed with his large, calloused hand. “Jo.”
The corner of Malik’s mouth curled up into a hint of a smile catching Jo off guard. Somewhere deep down, she knew it was something that didn’t happen often. But she didn’t know how she knew that.
He lifted her hand to his soft lips and placed a chaste kiss on her knuckles. “Malik. nd you’re quite welcome mi’ lady.”
He had the sexiest accent that almost sounded Greek but was blended with something else she couldn’t pinpoint. His gesture was both romantic and respectful. “Mi’ lady?” Jo responded confused. “That’s a new one for me.”
Malik released her hand begrudgingly. “A title one as exquisite as you deserves.”
“Signore Svetoslav,” called the valet.
Malik had to force himself not to growl at the young man with his poor timing. Turning his attention back to Jo he bowed. “‘Til we meet again mi’ lady.”
He turned to the valet, took his keys, and swiftly climbed into his expensive black sports car.
Jo was left at the restaurant, stunned, unsure of what to say or do. She returned to the bar and sat next to Clara.
Clara’s eyes lit up when she saw Jo approach and quietly clapped her hands excitedly. “Well? Tell me everything!”
“He kissed my hand, called me mi’ lady, said ’til we meet again, and then drove off,” Jo summed up the encounter quickly.
Clara’s face dropped. “That’s it?”
Jo nodded her head and then they enjoyed their evening out together. Jo and Clara had been spoiling themselves like this one night each month at a fancy restaurant to try them out and give themselves an excuse to dress up.
This was the most exciting thing that happened to them. These fancy restaurants were always full of couples and rarely single men.
Jo couldn’t get the pair of purple-gray eyes out of her mind. He didn’t even give her his phone number or a way to find him in the future. Just said ’til we meet again. What if they never met again? Was she okay with that?
She at least had his name, Malik Svetoslav, but he had nothing but Jo to work off of.
Sighing, she enjoyed the most incredible dessert she ever tasted. The chocolate from the perfectly moist cheesecake paired exquisitely with the chocolate notes in the wine. How did Malik know exactly how she liked her cheesecake? Everyone always thought her gluttonous because she wanted both chocolate and strawberries, not just one.
Jo decided that she wanted to see the mysterious Malik again, but she didn’t know why. She didn’t know anything about him, but she couldn’t shake the feeling there was more to him that she was determined to discover.
