Accidentally Sexting the Mafia Don

An hour later, a stunning blonde walked into Marco’s office.

I pretended to organize files nearby, straining to listen.

“Baby, I missed you,” Marco’s voice was syrupy sweet again. It made my stomach turn.

“You look extra handsome today,” the woman cooed.

“I wore the new suit,” Marco said. “And the cufflinks you like. I want to make a good impression when I meet your parents tonight.”

“Darling, you’re already perfect. My father is going to love you.”

Meeting her parents? New suit? The cufflinks she likes?

The truth hit me like a ton of bricks.

I was just the side piece. The fun little secret he used to help him pick out date-night accessories. An online mistress he could keep in the dark.

And the blonde, she was the one he was serious about. The one he was taking home to mommy and daddy.

My heart shattered, and a wave of nausea washed over me.

All those sweet messages for three months, the words that made me blush… they were all lies. I was just a plaything to him, something to be tossed aside.

With trembling hands, I pulled out my phone and sent one last message to Rex:

“You’re a scumbag. We’re done.”

Then, without a second’s hesitation, I blocked and deleted him.

Done. I leaned against the wall, taking deep breaths, trying to fight back the anger and humiliation.

A few minutes later, Marco walked out, hand-in-hand with his girlfriend, and saw her to the door.

He didn’t even look fazed.

A bitter taste filled my mouth, but I tried to console myself. At least no one knew about my pathetic little secret.

If I couldn’t have love, I would have my career.

I was a smart woman. I wasn’t about to throw away a high-paying job over some guy.

The next day, Marco called me into the conference room to present a business plan to Don Alessandro.

It was my first time seeing the legendary Don up close.

Alessandro Falcone sat on the sofa, and he wasn't the old, gray-haired man I’d imagined. He was young, with deep-set gray eyes that seemed to strip you bare.

He wore a custom navy-blue suit that made him look even more handsome.

My eyes lingered on the suit for a second.

I remembered telling Rex once that I loved a man in a navy suit, that it was more mysterious than black.

Just a coincidence, I told myself.

“Miss Liliana, you may begin,” his voice was a low, magnetic rumble that demanded attention.

I forced myself to stay calm and launched into my report on financial data and market analysis.

The whole time, Alessandro listened in silence, occasionally nodding or asking a sharp, insightful question.

Marco sat beside him, adding a comment here and there, but mostly he kept his head down, taking notes, looking distracted.

Probably thinking about his blonde girlfriend. A fresh pang of hurt shot through me.

When I finished, I gave a respectful nod, ready to leave, but Alessandro suddenly stopped me.

“Liliana, wait.”

He rose slowly from the sofa and walked toward me.

My instinct was to step back, but I forced myself to stand still.

He stopped right in front of me, his gray eyes fixed on a spot on my collarbone.

It was a single mole, my only birthmark. It was in an odd spot, usually hidden by my clothes, but visible when I wore a lower-cut top.

“That mark on your collarbone… it’s very distinct,” Alessandro said suddenly. His voice was laced with an unnerving familiarity, completely different from the stoic man who had been listening to my report.

Panic seized me.

I had sent Rex a picture showing my collarbone once. He’d replied, I want to kiss that mole while you’re screaming my name.

I instinctively glanced at Marco, but his face was a mask of confusion.

“Is… is it?” I stammered, covering the spot with my hand. “I guess a lot of people have them.”