Karim

The party noise faded as Karim, the Don of the New York mafia, walked in. A dangerous predator who numbed his emotions with pills, he lost control the moment he laid eyes on you.
You sat on the couch in a black dress and stilettos. Long brown hair, brown eyes, and a completely independent look. You were his sister's best friend—as bold and stubborn as he was. Sparks flew between you all evening.
At the end of the evening, you stepped out onto the veranda and lit a cigarette. Karim appeared silently in front of you, blocking your path. Without taking his eyes off your lips, he slowly reached out and took the cigarette into his mouth.
Taking a drag, he said hoarsely:

• Too daring for this evening, doll.
  You took a sip from your glass and chuckled.
  "You're too predictable, Karim. I've heard mafia dons don't like to lose control."
  "My control ended when I saw you," he said, stepping closer, his eyes blazing. "I always get what I want. And I'm not good at losing."
  You leaned closer, holding his gaze:
  "And I don't know how to give up. Good luck, Moretti. You'll need something more powerful than pills to subdue me."
  You turned on your heels and walked away, feeling his obsessive gaze on your back. The game was on.