My First, My Last, My Everything

Chapter 1

Gabriella

"Wait, so you're saying your boss is just a few minutes away?" He vigorously nodded, avoiding my gaze as his eyes fixated on the floor.

I let out a sigh and casually set my empty wine glass on the glass coffee table. Leaning back on the soft leather couch, I couldn't help but roll my eyes internally. This was the part of meeting business clients that irked me the most—when their secretary informs me their boss is running late.

Waiting for others wasn't my favorite pastime, especially when the roles should be reversed. I had the itch to reach for my gun and metaphorically put an end to the audacity of making me wait.

Even my own crew and bodyguards were well aware of this quirk of mine. Nobody, regardless of the time or place, should subject me to their tardiness. Because if they did, they'd find a bullet making a home between their eyes.

Here I was, in the Silverstain Nightclub on the exclusive top floor, twiddling my thumbs and awaiting the arrival of the club's manager. Dealing with people day in and day out was growing wearisome, but it was the necessity of keeping the business wheels turning.

Some folks might assume running the foremost mafia across Mexico and America would be a cakewalk, a life of being pampered. Oh, how wrong they'd be! In my realm, nothing was a cakewalk. Every step carried risk, and every move bore consequences. I knew what I'd signed up for; being the "Donna" of the Royal Mafia wasn't a walk in the park. Particularly when it meant juggling a legitimate business on the outside, concealing the true nature of my operations from the oblivious "normal" folks.

With an air of anticipation, the doors finally swung open, revealing the individual I'd been waiting on. One glance at him and my imagination painted a mental picture of him shirtless. Standing at a solid 6 feet tall, his black business suit accentuated his well-built frame and broad shoulders. His tousled blond hair added a certain sexiness to his appearance, and his chiseled jawline was nothing short of perfect. I had a weakness for men with jawlines that radiated both allure and danger.

All my musings about retribution and its consequences faded away at the sight of this gentleman before me. He was worth every second of the wait.

"Miss Antonio, my apologies for the delay. An unexpected issue cropped up at the club," he explained. He approached me and took my hand, placing a genteel kiss on its back.

A true gentleman, and smoking hot to boot. That was a combination I could get behind.

"No worries," I responded, watching as he settled into the chair across from me.

Casually crossing one leg over the other, I flipped my long brown hair over my shoulder. The red dress I wore, with its alluring neckline and side slit, showcased my perfectly tanned leg. Smirking to myself, I noticed his eyes tracking my every movement—a reaction I was aiming for.

"Mr. Parker, I assume you've reviewed the contract I emailed you last week. So, what are your thoughts? Do we have a deal?" I was always one for cutting to the chase when it came to business.

"Yes, I've gone through the contract. However, I have reservations about the distribution of shares," he replied.

An eyebrow of mine arched as I maintained eye contact with him.

"Reservations? Regarding the shares I've thoughtfully divided for the betterment of your club? Mr. Parker, I suggest you measure your words, because I don't entertain disputes over my decisions." Picking up my wine glass, I signaled to one of my bodyguards who promptly filled it with red wine.

His name was Hayden, and he executed the task efficiently. He stole a glance at the floor before meeting my gaze, offering a tentative smile.

"Miss Antonio, you're a significant partner in my endeavors, and I'd prefer to avoid discord in our dealings. Nevertheless, I find the 5% allocation a tad imbalanced," he stated. I let out a soft chuckle and took a sip from my wine glass.

"Imbalanced? Darling, you should consider yourself fortunate with 5%. Frankly, I had contemplated reducing it to 1%, but that, my dear, would genuinely be inequitable. I suggest you sign the contract, enjoy your time at the club, and clear your pretty little head of any petty objections to my decisions. Sound good?"

He held my gaze for a few moments before heaving a sigh and retrieving a pen from his pocket. Simultaneously, one of my bodyguards placed the contract on the coffee table before him.

I sipped my wine, watching him over the rim of the glass. As he finished signing the papers, he glanced back at me with a sly grin.

"About spending some quality time at my club—any intriguing concepts, Miss Antonio?" I returned my wine glass to the table, matching his smile.

You've got me, handsome.

"Pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Parker."

And that, gentlemen, is how Gabriella Antonio conducts her business.