The Proposition

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Chapter Two


Domenico’s POV.

“It’s becoming a problem, and I don’t like that,” I comment coldly.

The men around the table share a knowing, worried look. If I have a problem, it means that they have a problem. They need to fix it before I lose my shit.

“What are you going to do to fix it?” I address the question to my men.

I lean back in my chair and eye them all, making them squirm. They start suggesting ideas, but the brunette standing at the bar grabs my attention. I lock eyes with her, and my slacks instantly feel too tight, too constrictive. She’s such a fucking Goddess.

She’s wearing an outfit that shows off every curve in her delicious body. Her skin is tanned and smooth, her hair long and thick. She has this Cupid’s bow lips that just beg to be kissed.

Alejandra Castillo.

Owner of this restaurant and, if I have my way, my future wife. I hold her eyes and smirk. I love the faint blush that comes over her cheeks and the way she subtly rubs her lips together. She wants me, I know it. She wants me as much as I want her, and I haven’t even introduced myself yet.

The idiot bartender hands her a drink and her attention is taken away from me. She sits on one of the stools with her back to me. I can see the bartender talking to her about me, his eyes flick back and forth between us. There is a slight smile on his face, he better be saying good things. I will not be cock-blocked by a fucking bartender with a shit haircut.

I wish I could hear what they are talking about. The two of them laugh and talk like old friends. It irritates me. Disappointment fills me when she stands up, I’ve enjoyed watching her plump butt pressed against that stool. She straightens her dress and flicks her hair over her shoulder. She turns around and meets my eyes once more.

I beg for her to stay with my eyes. To come closer and talk to me. But I can see the wariness in hers. She doesn’t trust me. She senses what I am, even from across the room. Good. That means I’m letting off all the right vibes.

She gives me a brief smile, a dismissive one that annoys me. She waves goodbye to that idiot bartender and leaves. My mood turns sour without her here. The food is incredible, but I’ll admit that my company is lacking. These imbeciles wouldn’t know their dick from their gun.

“Fix the fucking problem or I will,” I threaten suddenly and get to my feet. “I’m leaving.”

I storm across the restaurant and go down the stairs. My bodyguards are waiting for me outside. They immediately open the car door, and the driver starts the engine. I spot my girl in a taxi as it pulls out.

“Follow Miss Castillo,” I order them.

We tail the cab to an apartment building. I watch her go inside, a take-out bag from the restaurant tucked under her arm. She’s staying in tonight, alone. Good. She had a turned on look in her eyes and I was worried that she might look for pleasure elsewhere. I would have been forced to intervene.

“Take me home,” I tell the driver and we pull away from the curb.

Tomorrow, I will go after her.


The restaurant is closed in the day, but Alejandra is in the building. The entire front wall is made of glass, allowing me to watch her move about. She picks up some book and takes a seat at one of the tables. She’s wearing a very tight dress that makes me want to squeeze everything. She crosses her legs, causing the dress to inch higher and reveal those lovely, tanned legs to me.

I grip my phone a bit harder, trying to control myself. What Alejandra doesn’t remember, is that we’ve met before. About five or six years ago, I was at a restaurant in the city and a beautiful family was at the table next to me. Two parents and their daughter; Alejandra.

She was under twenty-one at the time, nineteen or twenty, I think, but off-limits in my eyes. Despite that, I was enraptured by her beauty. She stayed for dinner with her parents, and I struggled to concentrate on my own conversation because I was too busy listening to her talk.

Her voice was angelic and pure, but she was funny and cheeky and made me smile. She left before her parents, and I turned to tell them what a wonderful family they had. They were so friendly and flattered by my comment, that they proceeded to tell me how proud they were of their daughter. They told me about her university course and how she had plans to take over the family restaurant one day.

I only heard of their deaths when I saw an article on the up and coming restauranteur who had lost both of her parents in a car accident. Although I felt sorry for her for losing her parents, I was pleased that she had fulfilled their dream of taking over the restaurant.

I decided to become part of her life. I wanted to meet her and introduce myself properly, so I went to her restaurant. What I found was a heartbroken woman who was dedicating her life to her business.

It was clear that she had no interest in men and I could tell that I would only add stress to her life. I don’t exactly have the easiest career and I need someone strong to be by my side. Alejandra needed time to recover.

Fast-forward three years and she has opened a second restaurant and business is booming. She’s a completely different woman, that much is obvious. You can tell by the way she holds herself and the way she enters a room.

I imagine the loss of her parents still haunts her, but she hasn’t let it break her, like it had before. She’s ready for me now, I know it. Resolving to meet her, I step out of the car and my men come with me. I approach the door and knock on it. She jumps at the sudden noise and looks up, frowning.

I don’t want my woman frowning, she should never frown. I want her happy and smiling. She sighs and stands up and I know she’s coming to tell me that they’re closed. She looks me up and down warily before opening the door.

“I’m sorry, but we’re closed.”

Her sweet voice reaches my ears, and I can’t help but smile.

She’s so perfect.

“I’d like to speak with you, Miss Castillo,” I tell her.

I can see the surprise on her face. Her expression turns shuttered, and I know she’s internally battling with whether to let me in or not.

“Sorry, do we knew each other?”

You have no idea, gattina.

I grin at her, unable to help myself. If only she knew the dirty images going through my head right now. Flashes of her bent over one of those tables as I pound into her, pressed against the window whilst my bodyguards awkwardly look away, in the back of my car when we’re finally alone...

“Not yet, Miss Castillo,” I reply. “Now, may I come in?”

I can see the hesitation in her eyes. She looks at my car and the guards, chewing on her bottom lip. She doesn’t trust me, and I don’t blame her. I’m glad that she is cautious, I would be worried if she blindly trusted people like this. It makes her vulnerable.

“What do you want to talk about?” She asks me.

“If it would make you feel uncomfortable, my men will stay outside. How about that?” I suggest to her, wanting her to feel at ease.

She gives in and agrees to let me into the restaurant. I nod at my bodyguards, and they stay outside whilst I go in. I make sure to get close to her as I go past her to enter the building.

She is wearing a sweet but light perfume. It’s a heady scent that has my desire building. I really need to get through this meeting with getting hard. With a woman like Alejandra, this is going to be really fucking difficult.

She clears the table for us and gestures for me to sit. I pull out the chair opposite hers. I want to sit closer, but that might make her uncomfortable. I can see how wary and nervous she is, and I don’t blame her. I need to reassure her quickly. I want her as comfortable as possible around me. The more comfortable she is, the more that she trusts me, the more likely she will be to agree to my proposition. And oh, how much I want her to agree to this.

One proposition, one little proposition for her to agree to, and I will finally have her where I want her. I will show her how good it can be and then, when she never wants to leave, I will make her mine.


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