Chapter 5

Dominic Castellano The heavy prison door slammed shut behind me, taking with it three years of my life. Three years of silence, darkness, broken promises, and simmering hatred. In the end, my freedom was all that mattered, and now I had a long list of names to cross off. But before that, I needed to remember what it felt like to be alive. "Mr. Castellano," Marco began, opening the car door for me. "Your father asked that you head straight home. He needs to arrange an urgent meeting..." "A meeting? What a surprise." My voice cut through the air like a blade. I got into the car without waiting for further explanations. "I spent three years locked up and abandoned like an animal... And that old man thinks a meeting can fix everything? No." I fixed him with a cold stare, delivering my command. "Drive. I want a place with decent music and real drinks. I need to remember what it’s like to actually live." "But your father—" Marco started to argue, but a single glance in his direction was enough to shut him up. I’m not one for explanations, least of all to fools who are only good for holding doors. I leaned back in the seat, and the silence in the car was almost comforting, broken only by the hum of the city that seemed unchanged since I left it. But I knew that soon enough, everything would be different. We arrived at Midnight, one of the city’s most expensive and well-frequented clubs. The kind of place where you could find anything—from lust to valuable information—if you knew where to look. The two bodyguards tried to follow me again, but I raised a hand, stopping them before they crossed the entrance. "Stay here. If I need babysitters, I’ll let you know." Inside, the atmosphere was as chaotic as ever. Flashing lights, music pounding in sync with the blood, and the smell of alcohol and cheap perfume filled the air. I walked straight to the bar, ignoring curious stares and obvious approaches. "Double whiskey," I ordered, lighting a cigarette as I waited. The first glass burned on the way down. By the third, I started to feel the relaxing effect I was looking for. That’s when I noticed her. She was sitting at the bar, nervously stirring the straw in a colorful drink, with a friend beside her who seemed more at ease. Unlike the other women there, she didn’t seem to be trying to draw attention. On the contrary, she looked like she wanted to disappear. And maybe that was exactly what made her stand out. My gaze traced her slowly. The black dress she wore hugged her curves in a subtle yet irresistible way. Her crossed legs, the loose hair falling over her shoulders... everything about her screamed a natural sensuality that she probably wasn’t even aware of. I decided to approach. Not with any clear intention—I never made plans when it came to women. It was more of a curiosity-driven game than anything else. I needed an excuse to talk to her, so I casually walked over, just close enough to bump into her on purpose. "You should watch where you’re going," I said, my voice harsher than necessary. She turned quickly, her eyes wide, and mumbled an apology so timid it almost made me smile. Almost. She tried to explain herself, but I was already more interested in how the soft light illuminated her skin, how her lips moved as she spoke. I barely paid attention to half of what she said. "Are you alone?" I asked, not because I cared about the answer, but because I wanted to keep the conversation going. "No," she replied quickly, gesturing toward a friend who seemed to be having a much better time than she was. "I see," I murmured, my voice laced with sarcasm. "So, she dragged you here." She gave a half-smile, shy but genuine. "Is it that obvious?" We kept talking, and the more she spoke, the more I noticed there was something captivating about her. It wasn’t just her beauty—it was the contrast between her shyness and the determination I saw in her eyes. As the night went on, I noticed she was drinking more than her body seemed to handle. Her posture grew more relaxed, but her balance started to waver. "Are you okay?" I asked, genuinely curious. "I’m fine," she answered, but it was clear she wasn’t. "Come on," I said, placing a hand on her waist. "Let’s get out of here." She hesitated for a moment, but eventually agreed. I guided her to a quieter hallway where the music wasn’t as loud, and the atmosphere was more private. "Better?" I asked, watching her closely. I realized my eyes were lingering too long on her lips. They looked soft, inviting, and the idea of kissing her became almost irresistible. "Yes," she replied, leaning against the wall. "Do you always look at people like that?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper. "No," I said, stepping a little closer. "Only the ones who interest me." She looked away, clearly trying to hide the blush creeping up her cheeks. It was adorable—the way she seemed both nervous and curious at the same time. Before I could say anything else, she took the step I didn’t expect. Her lips brushed against mine, hesitant, almost shy, but there was an urgency that made me respond instantly. I pulled her closer by the waist, deepening the kiss, and felt her body relax against mine. At first, she seemed unsure, but little by little, she gave in. When my hands slid along the curve of her waist, I noticed the tension in her shoulders and how her breathing was uneven. "Are you sure about this?" I asked, my voice low and rough as I broke the kiss for a moment. She looked at me, her eyes shining with uncertainty and something more—something beyond doubt. "Yes," she said, her voice soft, almost a whisper, but full of desire that made me smirk. "Then don’t say I didn’t warn you," I teased, kissing her again with more intensity this time, making it clear I was in control. I led her to one of the private rooms the club offered. The atmosphere was stifling, with dim golden light casting soft shadows on the walls. I closed the door behind us, and she stopped in the middle of the room, looking around with evident nervousness. "Relax," I said, approaching her from behind and placing my hands on her shoulders. The touch made her shiver slightly, but she didn’t pull away. "We’ll only go as far as you want." She nodded but said nothing. When I turned to face her, I noticed the blush on her cheeks, which only deepened as my gaze lingered on her. "You’re beautiful," I confessed, not bothering to filter my words. It was true. She had a raw, natural beauty that became even more evident in the way her slightly parted lips and wide eyes seemed to take in my every move. She opened her mouth to respond, but before she could say anything, I leaned in and kissed her again. This time, I let my hands wander further, sliding down the sides of her body until they found her waist, where the fabric of her dress seemed to yield to my touch. Her timid fingers finally found their way to my chest. Every movement she made was a blend of discovery and curiosity, and it only made me more eager and excited to uncover everything she was hiding. When I pulled down the zipper of her dress, I felt her breath hitch, but she didn’t stop me. The fabric slid off her delicate shoulders, pulling at her feet and revealing warm, smooth skin that seemed to call out to me. "You’re a virgin, aren’t you?" I asked, my fingers lightly caressing the curve of her neck as I rested my forehead against hers. She avoided my gaze, biting her lower lip, but she didn’t deny it. That made me pause for a moment, studying her more carefully. I could sense her innocence, but also her excitement—she wanted this, even if it was all new to her. "I’ll go slow," I promised, holding her face in both hands so she’d look at me. "But you need to tell me if you want to stop." She nodded, her eyes locked on mine. I began touching her gently, wanting her to feel comfortable, but also wanting her to understand that from this moment on, she would be mine. I kissed her neck, her shoulders, trailing down to find every sensitive spot that made her gasp or tremble lightly. She was receptive, almost as if trying to absorb everything at once. I laid her on the bed while kissing her, and when my mouth found the curve of her hip, she let out a soft sigh, her fingers clutching the sheets as if she needed support. "You’re so sensitive," I murmured against her skin, my voice heavy with teasing. "I haven’t even started, and you’re already on edge." She laughed nervously but said nothing. When I looked up at her, I saw her eyes clouded, lost in the intensity of the moment. I rose above her, and there she was, completely bare, ready to give herself to me, body and soul. I loved it—the view, the sensation of being in control—and she seemed to love even more having me between her legs. Likewise, I ran my fingers over her bare thighs, then gripped them tightly, pulling her closer to me. "I promise it won’t hurt," I said, watching her reaction as I rubbed myself against her. She was so warm, so wet, that I was sure she wouldn’t feel any discomfort. And then, I entered her. She wrapped her legs around me, gasping loudly, arching her back as if she wanted all of me inside her. For the first time, I wanted to see how far a woman could go, how much she could moan and writhe. In the end, that night was all for her - to make every touch unforgettable, to teach her body to respond to mine with every movement. I wanted to leave my presence engraved on her because, at that moment, I had made up my mind, she now belonged only to me and I wouldn't let anyone else touch her.