(KRYSTAL'S POV)
The car engine hums softly as we drive past the streets of Vegas. It's quiet except for the music floating from the speakers. I can see him stealing glances at me out of the corner of my eye, that smile tugging at his lips.
He's been so happy since I agreed to be his girlfriend, and to be honest, I find it cute.
"I know I'm drop-dead gorgeous," I tease, "but it'd be better for both of us if you kept your eyes on the road."
He nods, facing forward with a grin on his face. "Yes, ma'am."
"So," I say, leaning back, "how long have you been in the States, Mr. Mafia?"
"About five years," he admits. "My father sent me here to expand the family's network and territory. Vegas is basically mine now, but as you already know, my old man doesn't exactly like how I run things."
"In my opinion, you're doing an amazing job."
He turns, raising a brow. "Really?"
"Yes," I reply. "You own the biggest strip club in Vegas, the hottest nightclub, a casino, a five-star Italian restaurant—and a fleet of luxury rental cars on top of that. You've built an empire in just five years. Not a lot of people can do that."
His brows furrow as he ponders over my words. Then he nods slowly. "Thank you," he says, a small, vulnerable smile breaking through. "I didn't realize how much I needed to hear that, Kay."
"Kay?" I raise a brow, teasing. "We've barely started dating and you're already giving me nicknames?"
He chuckles. "I'm sorry, it just slipped out. I'll take it back if you want."
I shake my head, smirking. "No, I like it. I call you Val, so it's only fair that you have something short for me too."
"This is it," Val says, the car slowing down as we approach a gate.
The lights flick on automatically and the gates slowly slide open and he drives in.
My jaw drops as we drive deeper into his flawless estate. I see an infinity pool shimmering under ambient lighting, an outdoor lounge with plush seating, perfectly manicured gardens.
The car finally rolls to a stop and Val kills the engine. Before I can step out, he's already there, opening the door for me. With his hands grazing the curve of my lower back, he guides me out of the car.
"Chivalry suits you," I tease, but there's a flicker of genuine admiration in my voice.
"Welcome to my humble abode," he says, gesturing to the villa in front of us.
"Humble?" I scoff, marveling at the space. "That's beyond understatement."
I notice the men in black, posted all around the compound, all armed. One of them approaches us and slightly bows to Valentino. "Good evening, boss," then he turns to me. "Good evening ma'am."
Valentino tosses the car keys to him. "Park the car in the garage, and if you scratch it again this time, I'll leave more than just a scratch on your face. Got it?"
"Yes, boss." The man nods, getting into the car.
Val slips an arm around my waist, pulling me close to him. "Come on. Let me show you around."
The front door opens, and I step inside. My breath catches in my throat.
His living room is huge. Furnished with leather couches with soft throw pillows, a sleek glass coffee table in the middle, a gigantic flat screen TV hung up on the wall, and a grand piano tucked elegantly into the corner, the marble floors shine under the chandelier lights.
I gasp. "This is… breathtaking."
He lets go of my waist for a second, guiding me toward the kitchen. "Top-of-the-line appliances. Imported Italian marble countertops. Chefs would kill to work here."
I run a hand along the counter, feeling the cold perfection beneath my fingers. The sound of my nails clicking against it makes me grin. "You really spared no expense, did you?"
Valentino watches me, a small smirk tugging at his lips. "Go big or go home, right?"
I shake my head and laugh, shoving past him. "Where to next?"
We toured the game room, the indoor theater, and the wine cellar. We move back inside, and he leads me to the garage. My jaw drops again. Rows of expensive cars like Lamborghinis, Ferraris, McLarens, Teslas, classics like a cherry-red 1967 Mustang—stretch across the space, gleaming under the soft overhead lights.
Then finally, the bedroom. He opens the door, ushers me and I step inside, stunned by the sheer size. A king-sized four-poster bed dominates the room, dressed in sheets that look soft enough to sink into and never leave. Heavy velvet curtains frame a balcony that overlooks the city, the lights twinkling like stars from here.
"Wow," I smile, turning to face him. "Your bedroom alone is bigger than my apartment. Your place is just… amazing."
He doesn't say a word. He steps closer instead, closing the distance between us until I can feel his heat against my skin. His hands wrap around my waist, drawing me closer, pressing me against his chest. The world narrows to just us—the sound of his breath, the way his chest rises and falls, the intoxicating scent of his cologne.
Then his lips are on mine. Soft at first, testing… teasing. My hands find his chest, feeling the hard planes beneath the crisp fabric of his shirt. He deepens the kiss, sliding his tongue into my mouth, and I moan against him, letting myself melt into the heat of it.
His hands move with intent, sliding down to cup my ass, gripping firmly, sending a shiver up my spine. Every touch, every brush of skin, ignites a fire that's been smoldering since I said yes to being his.
We break apart for air, pressing our foreheads together, lips still grazing each other's. His gaze darkens, a low, dangerous edge threading through it. "Now… it's time I make good on my promise," he says, voice dropping so low it vibrates against my skin. "Time for me to show you heaven."
I bite my bottom lip, my heart beating hard against my chest.
"Fuck… don't just talk, Val," I whisper, stroking the bulge already straining against his pants. "Show me… show me exactly how heaven feels."