A Ghost in His Mind

The VIP section of the bar was dimly lit, the soft amber glow from vintage lamps casting warm halos across plush leather couches. The air was thick with the low hum of jazz and the subtle clink of ice against whiskey glasses. The music sank gently into the atmosphere, blending with the scent of old liquor and expensive cologne.

Alessandro sat at the center, legs crossed, his black shirt flawless and sharp as ever. He was surrounded by three of his close business associates, all nursing drinks and discussing future ventures. But his mind? It wasn’t in the room.

“I’m telling you, Alex,” said Enzo, a sharp-featured man with slicked-back hair and a gold ring flashing on his finger, “this casino’s going to be a gold mine. We’ve got the perfect location, and the owners are more than willing to play ball.”

Alessandro nodded slowly, eyes fixed on the amber liquid in his glass. But he wasn’t really listening. His thoughts were spinning elsewhere—back at the mansion. Back to Marco. The way Marco had stared him down, spat in his face without a hint of fear… that defiance haunted him.

“Hey, Alex,” said Stanley, a tall, wiry man with a teasing grin. “You seem a little... off tonight. You alright?”

Alessandro forced a faint smile, waving the tension from his expression. “Just thinking about some... business matters.”

But his voice was distant, like he was answering through a fog. Enzo and Stanley exchanged knowing glance, the kind that men share when they suspect something not business-related is eating at a man like Alessandro.

“Is it a matter of the heart, Alex?” Enzo asked with a grin, raising a brow. “Have you fallen for someone?”

“Yeah,” Stanley added with a low chuckle, “you’ve got that look—like a lion chewing on emotions instead of prey.”

Alessandro’s jaw flexed slightly, his fingers drumming once on the table. “Let’s focus on the casino,” he said flatly, his tone polite but unmistakably sharp. “We need to make sure our interests are protected.”

That was the end of it.

The guards positioned around the VIP section stood like statues, their eyes sweeping the room with quiet alertness. Everything was calm, poised. But inside Alessandro’s head, it was anything but.

The conversation drifted back to logistics—permits, profit margins, laundering strategies. Alessandro nodded along, tossing in short replies when needed, all while his thoughts kept clawing their way back to Marco. That stubborn glare. That voice. That fire.

Why couldn’t he stop thinking about him?

“What’s the estimated profit margin?” Alessandro finally asked, blinking back to the present.

“Thirty percent, minimum,” Enzo replied. “More if we can control the high-rollers. It’s solid.”

Alessandro nodded. “Good. But no loose ends. I want every partnership vetted. No outsiders looking in.”

Enzo and Stanley agreed, already flipping through numbers in their heads. Still, Alessandro couldn’t settle. It wasn’t the business keeping him up—it was the pull, the force gnawing at him from inside. The bond.

Outside the VIP lounge, two women sat near the bar, sipping colorful cocktails.

“Who’s that?” one asked, adjusting her dress as she peered toward the beaded curtain that separated the VIP section from the rest of the lounge.

“Who?”

“The man in black. The shirt looks like it was made for his soul,” she said with a dreamy smile.

Her friend raised a brow. “That’s Alessandro De Luca. And if you’re smart, you’ll keep dreaming from a distance. He’s not someone you want to get close to.”

The first woman grinned. “I want him.”

“Do you have a death wish?” her friend whispered, clearly shaken. “He’s De Luca. People disappear around him.”

“I don’t mind dying,” she murmured with a smirk, placing her drink on the table. She stood, adjusting her short, tight dress, and sauntered toward the guarded VIP entrance.

Luca and Vincenzo blocked her path immediately.

“You can’t go in,” Luca said simply.

“I want to see him,” she replied, flashing a sultry smile and flipping her hair.

“I’m sorry. That’s not allowed,” Vincenzo added, his voice firmer.

Just then, Enzo peeked through the curtain, curious.

The woman seized her chance. As the guards glanced back, she slipped past them, pushing through the curtain. Luca and Vincenzo followed quickly, ready to escort her out, but Alessandro raised his hand.

“Let her stay.”

They hesitated, then stepped back in obedience.

The woman smiled triumphantly and glided toward him. She sat beside him, her body angling toward his like a magnet.

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything important,” she said with a slow, practiced drawl.

Alessandro didn’t respond at first. He simply looked at her—no warmth, no amusement. Just stillness.

Enzo stood and clapped a hand on Alessandro’s shoulder. “Thanks for the drink, Alex. We’ll talk soon.”

Stanley followed, chuckling under his breath. “Enjoy your evening, my friend.”

The room emptied, leaving Alessandro and the woman alone.

“I like your scent,” she whispered, her hand brushing lightly against the fabric of his shirt. “I want to serve you tonight. Do you mind?”

Alessandro drained the last of his drink and set the glass down. He didn’t answer.

Instead, he moved fast, grabbing her shoulders and pinning her down onto the leather couch. Her playful expression faltered, and fear flickered in her eyes. She forced a smile.

“You like it rough?” she asked, her voice unsteady.

Alessandro’s face was close now, breath cold against her skin. His grip tightened.

“Didn’t you say you wanted to serve me tonight?” he asked quietly.

“Yes,” she whispered, heart racing.

“Then you’ll serve me however I want.”

He leaned in slowly, his breath warm against her lips, but then—something shifted.

His body froze.

Energy surged through him, wild and raw. His eyes turned blood-red, like glowing embers lit from within. The woman gasped in horror, trembling beneath him.

“Let me go,” she cried.

But Alessandro didn’t see her anymore.

In his mind, it wasn’t the woman beneath him—it was Marco.

That mouth.

That defiant gaze.

That scent that drove him mad.

And suddenly, he couldn’t breathe.

The lady managed to pull away and took to her heels.

The beast inside him clawed to the surface, and for the first time, Alessandro was afraid—afraid of what he was becoming... and what he might do to the one person he couldn’t stop thinking about.

Just as Alessandro was battling with his inner beast, Luca entered immediately, keeping his distance.

"Boss, we've got a problem." Luca said, face laced with fear.

"What is it?" Alessandro asked, voice weak.

"Marco tried to escape." Luca said.

Alessandro's eyes widened with anger. The word hung on the air.