Chapter 2

"...you have to get married to him, Lily." 

I watched him raise his glass and sipped from his wine, looking unaffected by the death sentence he just spilled on me.

My throat suddenly went dry as my fingers began to dig into my skin; I fidgeted and stared at the familiar face in the portrait, the angry dark eyes, the raised chin, and the hollowed cheekbone.

Enzo Dimitri, best friends with Greg, wasn't the kind of guy I like to be around, and you guessed it, he wasn't the type of guy that wanted ordinary people around him.

He wasn't the kind of man with marriage in mind; what happened?

Greg saw the question in my eyes and answered them, "Dimitri needs one of his sons to fill in his position back in Russia, and the only way Enzo is getting in is if he gets married."

With a shaky breath, I demanded, "And you thought I was going to be perfect for a devil-like Enzo, Greg? You fuvking know who he is! You know what he can do!"

He leaned in and grinned in my face, his fingers under my chin, "Did you think it was going to come that easy, spitfire, A million, damn, you should be prepared for a lot of risks."

My bottom lip began to tremble, "But Enzo?" he nodded, "Please, Greg" I grasped his hand feeling my lids getting wet, "Anything but that, I'll strip for you, hell, I'll even let you..." I cringed, "Sleep with me, but not Enzo, I beg of you."

But Greg downed the remnant and, dropping the cup, he took the phone from the table and replaced it with a card where his number was written, "You make up your mind, you know where to find me spitfire." he snatched his hand from my grasp, before cleaning it with a napkin and stood up.

"Greg..."

"You have two days, just two days." 

I watched his back hurry out of the restaurant, arriving before a Limo opened for him, and he slid in.

I turned to look down at the card on the table, trying my best not to cry, looking down at my fate in the form of a phone call.

One phone call was all it took.

But then it was Enzo. I knew who Enzo was. After getting his inheritance, I knew killing me was the next on his list.

But my mum.

I buried my face in my palms, feeling my tears drop in my hands, stiffening my shoulders so they didn't tremble.

It was a relief letting it all out, but I was in public, and attracting attention wasn't what I needed right now.

Biting my bottom lip, trying to keep the loud sobs at bay, when I heard the chair Enzo just left shift.

Thinking it was the waitress, I said, "Please just give me a moment to get myself; I'll leave."

Then came the male voice, "But I don't want you to leave, Grilletto."

The sound seemed to come from the deepest part of his throat, surrounding me; it chilled me to my bone that he spoke carefully, taking his time and, at a calculated pace, piqued my curiosity.

Ignoring that my mascara could be all over my face, I raised my head to see him, the man at the table behind us, and now he had a bizarre grin.

Looking closer now, I noticed the green of his pupil was smoky, and there was a little spark in the once-lifeless eyes.

His thick black hair was in a low fade, looking like he just rose from bed to take a walk, and with a straight nose, this man was attractive if he wasn't smiling at me like that.

And what did he call me? Grilleto?

When my staring began to get awkward, he held the collar of his black leather jacket and flagged it, "You don't like it? I can pull it off."

My brows knitted in confusion, watching this stranger who had suddenly disrupted my quiet time call me the strangest name and now PULLING OFF HIS JACKET BECAUSE HE THOUGHT I DIDN'T LIKE IT.

He dropped the jacket on the table, and now a black short-sleeved shirt was on display, showing muscular arms going all the way up.

Shaking my head out of my trance, I rasped, "I don't believe I know you."

"I know. The reason I stay in the shadows" his grin went wider; reaching into his pocket, he brought out a black handkerchief and passed it to me, "Here, you got some black streaks right there." he touched his cheek.

The thought that he just told me he stayed in the shadows lurked in my brain, But collecting the hanky, I quickly stood up, dabbing my eyes, "Thanks for this."

He stood up with me, the smile disappearing, "Are you sure you don't need anything, Grilleto? Anything at all?"

Frowning, I approached him, touching him and searching for the microphone.

"Hey," he whispered, not pushing me away; when I reached his thigh, he laughed, "Try not to go south; it gets hard to get it down."

I blushed profusely, pulling away from him.

"What were you even looking for?" He grabbed his jacket from the table, his eyes still smiling at me.

"This is a prank. Where's the mic? Where's the Camera?"

He shook his head, and at that moment, he looked like a teenager being accused of breaking a window with a ball, "It's not a prank," he took a step close to me, "I won't lie; I was watching you, I mean it's hard not to."

What was he blabbering about?

"Did that man do anything to you? Do you need help? Maybe an angel shot or something?" He squeezed my shoulders gently, then whispered breathlessly, "Damn, I can't believe I'm touching you again."

I found the situation so funny it was taking all of my willpower not to laugh; sad that this fine-ass man was crazy.

I turned to go, but this time he held my wrist firmly, but his fingers were still gentle; he turned me around to face him, then looking into my eyes, he muttered, "If you need help, call this." he pushed a piece of paper into my hands.

Looking down at the paper, written ADLER on it, I frowned, but so he left me alone; I nodded, "Fine, I'm leaving."

Walking to the door, I laughed, feeling the paper in my palms; the hilarious situation had me forgetting my problems for a short while.

Reaching the door, I turned, hoping to spot him for the last time, but he wasn't there any longer.

I looked around at the restaurant but couldn't find him. My forehead creased; was that all in my head?

The paper in my hands told me it wasn't.

Looking down at the squeaky handwriting, I laughed again before getting into a taxi.

But in the Taxi, when I raised his hanky to clean up my teary face, I discovered the hanky smelt like Lilies.