S*X Contract With Invalid Mafia Boss

Chapter 2

Luca’s POV

It all started the moment I held her hand and looked into those soulless yet defiant, pale blue eyes. Something had surged within me—a warning, a desperate urge to be anywhere but there with her. But when I let go, and her expression shifted to anger, her gaze locked on mine, I knew. She would be my undoing, and around her, being myself felt impossible.

So, I had done something I hadn’t dared since my teenage years: I decided to be petty. And that very pettiness, the need to prove something to her and maybe even to myself, led to her kneeling between my legs, unbuckling my trousers. I’d wanted to ask anyone, everyone, how it had spiraled out of control so quickly.

What was meant to be a quick trip to one of these worn-down parts of the city had devolved into… this. I’d come to blend in, to investigate what my subordinates suspected were rival moves on my turf. Instead, I found myself in that dim, grimy nightclub, fixated on a woman who had somehow challenged me with a single look.

The determination in her eyes, the flash of every emotion in those hardened, half-dead eyes, sparked something in me I hadn’t felt in years. I tried to stay steady, but as she undid the buckle of my belt, a thrill—one I hated to acknowledge—coursed through me. Blood rushed south, and I fought to keep control, reminding myself that I had never once lost my grip in situations like this. But when she finally pulled my briefs down, my c**k sprang free, as if it had been waiting its whole life for her touch.

I’d watched the astonishment flicker in her eyes as she took me in, and I’d known, right then, that I was done for. Then she set her mind to it—determination etched across her face as she gave me the best blowjob, the best handjob, of my entire life. My defenses, my control, shattered in minutes, and I came faster than I had ever thought possible, leaving me breathless and stunned.

As I handed her the two thousand euros, her eyes gleamed with a smug satisfaction. I pretended to slip my unofficial business card between the bills, half-hoping she’d find it. She’d given a slight nod and smirked, tossing a mocking, “Thank you for dinner,” before walking out with that victorious stride.

I’d driven straight back to my estate, immediately delegating my unfinished work to Mario, my second-in-command. And in the week that followed, I hadn’t been able to take my mind off her. Her face, her touch—they lingered, gnawing at me until even my usual distractions became useless. She was a reminder of something I hadn’t expected, hadn’t wanted, but couldn’t forget.

And here I was, in the middle of a tense meeting with gang heads from various districts in one of our hideouts. We’d discussed issues I normally found engrossing, power plays I could orchestrate in my sleep, but tonight, I was somewhere else entirely. My thoughts drifted to her, that sharp gaze, that relentless determination. Frustration flared up, sudden and fierce, and before I knew it, I slammed my fist on the table.

Silence fell as everyone turned, startled by my outburst. Some of them—men tattooed from neck to knuckles, some old enough to be my father—murmured apologies, bowing slightly. But I couldn’t deal with it. With a clipped command, I canceled the meeting, standing abruptly and sweeping out of the room.

In the corridor, I nearly bumped into Mario. His usual composure flickered as he glanced up at me. “Boss, we’ve found her,” he said, his tone steady. “The girl you mentioned. She’s been working as a bartender and cleaner in another city.”

I met his gaze, a wave of unexpected relief washing over me. Mario was thorough, and I trusted him to deliver results, but this confirmation hit differently. I’d described her vaguely, giving little more than a quick sketch of the woman with defiant eyes. I hadn’t told him she was the first woman who’d gotten me to lose control, the first woman who’d made me feel something—anything—that went beyond a passing whim.

“When can she be brought to me?” I asked, my voice betraying none of the storm inside.

“She’ll be at one of the safe houses tonight,” Mario replied with a nod.

I allowed myself a brief, tight smile. “Good. I’ll head there now.”

As I left, I found myself taking a detour, stopping for a fresh haircut and a change of clothes. I told myself it was due for the week, but in truth, I felt the need to prepare—something I hadn’t felt in years. When I caught my reflection, sharp and composed as ever, a hint of something wild looked back. She was no ordinary woman, and I wasn’t used to facing my own reflection with such unease.

Arriving at the safe house ahead of schedule, I felt a strange, restless energy pulsing through me. The room was silent, my footsteps the only sound as I paced, glancing at the clock, willing her to arrive. Despite my best efforts, she’d gotten under my skin, her face seared into my mind with an intensity I didn’t want to acknowledge.

Confusion mixed with anticipation, and for the first time, I wondered what would happen next. I’d told myself she was just another distraction, a loose end I’d tie up for the sake of control. But standing there, waiting, I knew it was more. She was the first woman who’d left me craving something beyond a simple transaction, the first woman who’d rattled me to the core.

And as the door creaked open and she walked in, her chin tilted defiantly as if she’d known I’d be waiting, I realized one truth: she was the only one who could do this to me.