Five - The contract (Part 1)

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Amélie's pov:

As the guests arrived, I stayed hidden in the ballroom's secret balcony and watched over them all with an uneasy feeling lingering within me.

I quickly brushed it off as it's probably only because I haven't set foot in this ballroom for 4 years now. Ever since my máman's death.

Through the speakers, you could hear the announcer introducing each mafia and their designated leader.

"Christos Adonis Leander - Greek Mafia!" The announcement echoed through the air, as well at the claps from all of the guests.

"Matteo Alverez Salvador - Spanish Mafia!" More clapping could be heard as I made my way off of the balcony and to the entrance.

Suddenly, the sound of cheers and claps roared throughout the ballroom, however I couldn't hear who the guests were as I was now outside and nearing the main entrance.

I took a deep breath in, trying to calm my nerves, however, my attempts were futile.

I nodded to the guards standing outside, signalling for them to open the door.

They do so and the whole room goes silent, their piercing eyes scrutinising me.

So I done what I do best-

I lifted my chin, masked my face and got rid of any terrified feelings, put on a dazzling smile and entranced the guests.

-I was going to fake it until I make it.

"Please give it up for Miss Amélie Levine Beaumont or 'La mère de la mort' - French Mafia!"

The ballroom was silent for a moment, then another, and another.

Until it broke out in whistles, claps and cheers.

As I make my way down the stairs, with the help of a few men along the stairs, my eyes flit upwards and come into contact with the most drop-dead gorgeous man I have ever seen. With a sharp jaw, wavy/curly hair and a drink in hand, he has single-handedly taken hottest man of the year award in my books. From here, he is too far away to be recognisable however his face seems familiar. He lifts his drink slightly and connects it to his smirking mouth.

Oops. Guess he saw me drooling over him.

As I finished walking down the stairs, everyone's attention was shifted onto the tapping of a microphone that was blasting through the speakers.

"Good evening to you all! I'd like to give you all a warm welcome and hope you have a wonderful evening. Please do note that our ball's event will begin in 2 hours." My father announced to his guests.

God I hate this shit.

Every year, my father hosts one of these silly little balls - which I don't attend. ever - and always feels the need to add a 'party game' with a twist. One that always ends in torture or death. Hence why I don't attend, I find it pointless, really.

However, with the look plastered on my father's face tonight. I can sense something horrific is about to happen.

As I make my way to Liyana, I can't help but think about the gorgeous guy that I saw. I wonder where I've seen him before?

Romeo's pov:

It's now been about an hour of fake niceties and mingling and to be honest, I just need a good lay at this point.

When Amélie Levine Beaumont walked in here - her body covered in a stunning golden, silky dress and eyes that could captivate any human being - I think my heart stuttered for a moment. Which was unusual. Because I hate her. I cannot stand to be within 100ft of her as there is a very high chance that I might have the intrusive tendency of wanting to kill her.

Being the best assassin in the world only means that she's not here to play in the mafia world. She's the one who leads most of the raids on my shipments and keeps killing my men for fun.

Is she an absolute belleza [beauty]? Yes, she is.

Can looks be deceiving? Yes, they can.

My thoughts are cut off by someone clearing their throat.

I turn to find the source of my interruption and I am faced with bitch-boy Beaumont - Amélie's father. Merda [shit] Oh how I wish I could snap his neck and not have to interact with him. However, I don't, I chose to be the better person and speak up first.

"Francois Beaumont" I acknowledge.

"What a coincidence bumping into you here. Romeo Basilio." The bitch-boy replied.

"Is it though, Beaumont?" I reply, my tone filled with hostility.

He hummed and - much to my dismay - continued the conversation "listen, I have a proposition for you," just as I was about to cut him off from rambling about his idiotic plan, he held a hand up, as if to shut me up.

Tightening my grip on the glass in my hand, I allow him to continue his bullshit explanation - considering my mafia did kill his wife a couple years back and I feel about a half of an ounce sorry for him.

"One that you will not be able to refuse." I raise an eyebrow at him, signalling for him to continue.

"It's an old contractual agreement that must be fulfilled, if not, your position as 'capo' is on the line. I'm sure we can take this conversation to my office and continue there, no?" The old bastard had the audacity to smirk and nudged his head in the direction of his office.

Something about this seems suspiciously eerie, what is bitch-boy Beaumont planning?

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