The Art Of Seduction - A Mafia Book [18+]

Chapter 8

"Jesus Christ, Vince." I breathed as he stumbled from the bar towards the dining table, almost tripping over his own two feet. Beside the bar, shards of glass were scattered on the wooden tiles. It seemed like he dropped a glass while trying to get something at the bar. I placed my gun on the table and walked towards him, my fingers shaking and my heart thundering in my chest.

He sat at the table without my help, releasing a heavy breath as he did.

"Get me a bottle of Vodka." He grunted, removing his blood-stained coat to reveal his even more bloody button-up shirt.

Slowly, I walked backwards towards the bar, avoiding stepping on the broken glass shards and searched for the bottle of scotch that Vince was asking for and gratefully, finding it with ease.

I grabbed the bottle of scotch walked towards Vince, my eyes glued to the blood stains on his shirt.

"What happened?" I forced myself to ask him as he grabbed the bottle from my hands and took a large swig of it.

"Business." He coldly answered as he placed the bottle on the table with loud bang and began to unbutton his shirt.

"Do you need help with that?" I asked him, my voice barely a whisper.

"There's a first aid kit under the kitchen sink. Go get it." He ordered without glancing at me and I nodded my head, my throat suddenly too dry for me to speak.

I half walked and half ran towards the kitchen to open the cupboard under the sink and indeed, there was a first aid kit. I grabbed it and returned to the living area where Vince was, his shirt now fully unbottuned to reveal his hard chest and prominent six pack. I spotted different scars over his chest and abdomen, most of them seemed like they were old.

But more than that, it was the small yet fairly deep cut on his abdomen that caught my attention.

"I'm hoping the guy who did this is in worse shape." I mumbled as I opened the first aid kit to pull out the necessary things to treat his wound.

Vince viciously chuckled although, out of breath. "He's dead." He revealed with a sadists smirk.

"Of course he is." I breathed as I dropped to my knees and cleaned his wound, my fingers shaky as they wiped the frozen blood around it with a wet cloth.

His skin was hot under the tip of my fingers and I tried to keep my breathing level as I focused on cleaning his wood. Luckily, he had stopped bleeding and the gash didn't seem deep enough for it to need stitches.

"You're lucky you don't need stitches." I told him as I reached for his bottle of vodka. He raised an eyebrow at me, his grip on the bottle tightening. I quirked an eyebrow right back at him. Did he not want me to disinfect his wound?

"Are you really willing to risk an infection?" I asked him.

"You don't have to do this." He said as he loosened his grip on the bottle and I grabbed it from the table.

"I know but I'm a nice person." I said and then poured the vodka over his gash.

"Fanculo!"(Fuck!) He cursed through gritted teeth, his jaw clenching and hand coming up to grab my wrist tightly. My breath got caught in my throat as he did, his movement so fast that my eye couldn't catch it.

He was panting once I stopped pouring the vodka, staring at me through the locks of his hair that fell over his forehead, his hand still gripping my wrist tightly enough that it had begun to hurt.

"I need to cover it." I breathed, gulping audibly, trying to wrench my wrist free from his tight grasp. Soon enough, his grip loosened and I placed the bottle on the table before rubbing my wrist where his hand was.