The Don Madness

Smoke and alcohol clouded the club. It was Friday night, so many people were coming in here and Nero sat in his usual seat, scoping out the scene while he sipped his bourbon. Ignoring many women begging for his attention, he smokes his cigar and observes everything in silence instead of giving it to them. He saw his workers serving drinks, all dressed in their uniforms. The music was loud and everyone seemed to be having a good time. A typical night, he thought to himself. He looked bored as hell, sitting in silence and sipping his alcohol. He had an unreadable expression with a blank stare. Nero has a cold, hard exterior, he never lets many get close enough to know him. He was attractive, and he knew it. The ladies did too, in dark, gorgeous, and intimidating ways. A woman approached. It was one of the waitresses at his club. She had on a short flapper dress. It was a red lacey, strappy number with tassels, a dark pair of heels, and matching jewelry. Her hair was up, her face was a mask of heavy makeup and bright red lipstick, and she looked pretty. “Everything alright, Sir?” she said in a thick English accent. He looked up from his glass of bourbon and looked at the woman up and down. He then leaned back in his seat and nodded. “Everything is fine, love.” He replied in a thick accent, a slight gruff to it, as he always sounded grumpy. The woman smiled and nodded. She was clearly nervous. “Is there anything I can get you, sir?” Nero smirked as he noticed her nervous expression. “Nothing for now, sweetheart.” He leaned back in his seat and took another sip of his drink and held it in his hand. She then walked off and went back to do work, and he was back to minding his business. It’s nothing special — woman has always been one of his vices: the booze, the drugs and the woman. He had his fun whenever he wanted. They just came flocking. He had more than one woman in his bed every couple of days, but after his fun, he’d throw them out straight away and never even think about them again. Cigar in between his fingers as he took another drag and exhaled the cloud of smoke. His eyes looked around the room and found a few people staring at him, but then they quickly looked away once they noticed he looked back. Well, he was used to having eyes on him. He was a f*****g Don for God’s sake, but it was starting to make him uncomfortable, and his annoyance started to show. Until then, the doors open and a woman walks in. The look on her face showed that she was clearly angry. He could tell easily, and it made his eyebrow raise as he looked at her — seeing how pretty she was, but also how angry she looked. He was curious as to why. She made her way to the crowd, not even noticing he was there, and then she sat at the bar, not even bothering to look up at the bartender who was waiting for her — so ready to serve her and prepare anything she asked for. It made him chuckle, finding her amusing being so pissed. Nero continued to observe her as he took another drag of his cigar. That woman was beautiful, there was something different about her that made him intrigued — it was as if she didn’t belong here, in his club. All of it made him find himself getting more curious and watching her a little more intensely. He still sat there, still observing her. Just who the hell was she? Finally, curiosity got the best of him, and he got up from his seat and walked over to her. . “Tequila.” I softly order the bartender a tequila as I take a seat, and he just nods, preparing it for me—not even talking with me or sweet—talking me. This is good because I don’t want anyone to give me special treatment if they know who I am. “And strawberries with melted chocolate would be nice.” Obsidian Club, a club that is large and lavish. It’s my first time here because I need to breathe fresh air and am not surrounded by many people I know. So, there will be just me, enjoying my drinks on Friday night without boring conversations such as business talk. The bartender handed me my orders and I mumbled thanks before I devoured it. My eyes darted towards my surroundings and found so many people coming here in groups, and they all enjoyed themselves — giggling, dancing, kissing, and all. Oh, to be young, without any burden, and in love, it must be so beautiful. Most importantly, to be born as an ordinary person and live a slow and peaceful life, it must feel so good. Ah, it’s not good for me to think of such a thing like that. After all, it was impossible, and thinking about it just made me even more stressed. “Another tequila, please.” “Someone must be having a bad day.” An unfamiliar voice entered my ear, and I turned to see a beautiful man dressed in his all—black tailored three—piece suit. “May I sit here, Mademoiselle?” Oh, bold of him to assume I’m not married. But I just nod politely and eat my strawberries. “Her orders are in the house.” It made me turn and find him sitting beside me now, so calm and poised, and majestic. Something about him feels off, and I can tell it’s dark and dangerous. He is truly someone I shouldn’t associate myself with. I just know it instantly. Besides, he is a little creepy, as his eyes never leave me. “Is something wrong, Sir?” “Just admiring a piece of art,” he smiles. “A masterpiece, to be exact.” I can’t help but blush. Oh, he is totally dangerous to me. “I’ve never seen you here.” His eyes never leave mine as he talks. “Tell me what is your name, darling?” “Curious?” “Dying.” I laughed softly and extended my hand. “Blair Sinclair, pleasure to meet you, Mr?” He looked slightly taken aback, probably noticed who I was and wondered why someone like me was there, but then went back to composing himself as he took my hand and kissed the back of it. “Nero Valkov, the pleasure is all mine, sweetheart.” Such a gentleman, but I can tell that he is deadly. His aura tells so much about him. “So, the owner of the club?” “You catch quickly, as expected from a Sinclair.” Nero smiles. “So, what is bringing you here, Miss Sinclair?” “Can’t I be here?” “It’s not like that, sweetheart.” He grinned, and I just gave him a small smile in response. “This place is dangerous for someone like you and, I believe, you have another fancy club as your playground.” “I need fresh air — new people in a new environment and all.” “Bored playing in your world?” And I nodded. “Well, you have new company here now, sweetheart, and I will not let you roam around here freely — simply because it's dangerous being surrounded by total strangers. We never know what they will do to you.” It makes sense, but truly, I don’t need it. I am capable of taking care of myself. “I appreciate it, but I can protect myself just fine.” I hate it. I hate it so much when others treat me like I’m just a little girl who does not know anything, so vulnerable and fragile that she needs a lot of protection and guidance. It makes me feel small and weak, not even worthy. I’m Blair Sinclair, the heiress of a multi-billion conglomerate company. I shouldn’t get treated and feel like this — I must hold my chin high proudly and show no weakness. No, I can’t afford to be like that. “Darling, we do not know what lurks or even hides in the darkness.” His knuckles caress my cheek. “Such a delicate flower shouldn’t be alone.” “You don’t have to bother,” I tell him softly. “You are a total stranger too — I shouldn’t trust you. Who knows that maybe you are an assassin sent to kill me in secret?" He grins.