(KRYSTAL'S POV)
"Do you wanna be my girlfriend?"
The question hits me mid-sip. I choke on the wine, coughing as the glass clinks back down against the table. My chest burns, my throat stings, and for a second I think I might actually die right here in front of him.
Valentino's out of his seat in a heartbeat, one hand on my back, the other steadying the glass so it doesn't spill. "Shit, I'm sorry—are you okay?"
I wave him off between coughs. "It's alright. I—" another cough slips out, "I'm fine."
He sits back down slowly, that easy calm returning to his face, but his eyes stay locked on me. The kind of stare that drags all the air out of your lungs if you hold it too long.
My pulse won't slow down. I can hear it in my ears… feel it right under my skin. I take a slow breath and lift my gaze back to him. He's still looking at me, waiting. There's no grin on his face, no teasing smirk. He's eagerly waiting for an answer.
Fuck… he's not kidding.
"So?" he says finally, voice low, steady. "What do you say?"
For a second, I swear the whole restaurant fades out—the hum of conversations, the clinking of silverware, the low music playing somewhere near the bar. It's just him and that question hanging in the air between us.
My lips twitch before I even realize I'm smiling. "Yes."
His brows lift slightly, like he wasn't expecting that answer to come so easily.
"I'd love to be your girlfriend."
And for a moment, I forget to breathe. Because the look that lights up his features isn't one I've ever seen before. Not from him. Not from any man.
It's pure happiness.
And damn, it's beautiful.
(VALENTINO'S POV)
The second the word yes leaves her mouth, I nearly lose it. Every muscle in me tenses like I just won the fucking lottery. If we weren't surrounded by people, I'd be on my feet jumping and screaming like a child. Instead, I settle for a grin I can't hold back as I slide my hand across the table, threading my fingers through hers.
"You don't think we're moving too fast, do you?"
Her thumb grazes the back of my hand. "No. If the moment feels right, it feels right. There's no point in stalling when you clearly want something. Just take it."
That hits somewhere deep. I nod slowly, my eyes fixed on her. "Glad we're on the same page."
"Me too."
There's a warmth sitting between us now, soft and calm, like it's been there all along just waiting to be noticed. But under it, there's something else. A quiet, steady current humming beneath the surface, getting stronger every second.
"I'm going to spoil you rotten," I say.
Her lips curve. "Can't wait."
When the meal's over and the plates are cleared, I lean back in my chair, watching her sip the last of her wine. "Hey, you wanna get out of here?"
She tilts her head, playing it cool. "Where?"
"How about I take you back to my place? Show you around… maybe get naked…"
Her brows rise, but I don't stop there. I lean closer, dropping my tone by an octave. "And I'll stick my tongue in your pussy and make you see heaven."
The air between us thickens instantly.
Krystal smirks, biting her lip as she pushes her chair back and stands.
"Well," she says, that sultry spark lighting her eyes, "what are we waiting for?"
—
McCARRAN INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT, LAS VEGAS – VIP TERMINAL.
9:47 PM.
(RAFFAELE'S POV)
The jet doors hiss open and I step out, sunglasses shielding my eyes even though it's night. My men are already moving, hauling luggage and gear to the waiting convoy of matte-black SUVs lined up under the harsh lights.
I pull a cigarette from my jacket pocket, press it between my lips, and flick the lighter. The flame dances for a second before I take a long drag, letting the smoke curl around my face as I take in the city skyline.
An aide steps forward, bowing slightly. "Good evening, Signore Vipera. Welcome to Las Vegas."
I don't bother to look at him. My gaze remains on the city as I pocket my hands, the cigarette dangling from my lips.
"Mm," I hum, letting the smoke drift into the air as I walk toward the waiting cars.
My phone starts to vibrate in my pocket, pulling my attention. I fish it out, noting the ID flashing across the screen.
Papà.
I answer, pressing the phone to my ear. "Ciao, Papà." (Hi, Dad.)
"Raffaele," my father's deep voice rumbles from the other line. "Have you landed yet?"
"Yes," I reply, slowly exhaling smoke.
"Good. You already know the plan. Begin executing it immediately. I'm sick and tired of Valentino acting like a fucking child, making a mess of the Vipera name."
"I'll handle it," I say smoothly. "You have absolutely nothing to worry about, Papà."
There's a pause on the line for a moment, though I can still hear my father's breathing.
"If there's one thing I know about that boy," Papà continues, his tone ice cold, "It's that he's stubborn as hell. What will you do if he resists?"
I flicked the cigarette to the ground and crushed it beneath my polished shoe, the embers dying instantly.
"Then I'll fucking put him down."