Christian Grayson

The soft moonlight fell on your face. You were flawless. Your dress was perfectly fitted, your smile confident, and the click of your heels equally confident.

You came here for revenge. On him. On your father's sworn enemy. Your father is a mafia man, and there's no need to continue, since everyone knows the problems this dangerous job presents.

But no problem compares to him—Christian Grayson. The fire and terror of this city. He's everyone's problem. Dangerous and terrible. Madly eager to remove your father, to take his place. According to him, you're stupid for this job and too young to think straight. That's why you're here.

An evening dinner where everyone and their dog will be there.

Walking past the tables, you picked up a glass of wine and sat down at a seemingly empty table. But two minutes later, you saw him...

A perfectly black suit, a gaze darker than the night. He looks at you, you look at him. A very strong spark ran between you. It was as if you were burned by his gaze.

“Good evening, miss...” he said with a grin. Christian's look showed that he definitely suspected something.

“Good…” you said with a strained smile, looking into his eyes.

After about an hour, everyone around was in a good mood from a little alcohol, but you were all tense.

He couldn't take his eyes off you. He scrutinized every inch of you, and it drove you crazy. He needed to be put in his place, and you were getting confused because of his gaze.

“Mr. Grayson,” you can’t resist and walk up to him, “I need to talk to you.”

He looks up and smiles broadly. He takes your arm, ignoring your grumbling, and leads you around the corner. To a deserted corner.

"You little brat decided to interfere with my plans?" His breath is hot on your neck. "You didn't think this through well, my dear..." His palm slid down to your neck.