This story is now up in full, under the same title, on my other account:

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I march out of the building, storming out of the door with such momentum that it slams against the wall and ricochets closed.

That pervert!

One minute we're discussing my restaurant, the next he's asking if he can take me out to dinner sometime. I shudder at the thought.

The man is over twenty years older than me, not a chance.

I scowl and push him from my mind.

I need a drink.

I take a taxi to my flagship restaurant. My other one is two hours away in another city.

This one is my baby, it was started by my parents when they moved over form Columbia.

When I was twenty and in my second year over university, they were killed in an accident. I inherited the restaurant and my uncle looked after it whilst I completed my business degree.

At twenty-two, I took over and put everything into building a name for myself.

Three years later, I've opened a second restaurant and I've just had an article written on my success in the local magazine.

Both restaurants have an exclusive clientele, not many can afford my prices. I offer fine dining and a luxury experience.

The taxi rolls up, I pay the driver and I step out, smoothing down my body-con dress. I strut into the restaurant in my six inch killer heels acting like I own the place.

Oh, wait.

I do.

I've worked damn hard to make this place what it is, I was handed everything by my parents and I hate the stigma that I've had it easy, I haven't. I lost my parents, that's not easy.

I hope they'd be proud of what I've done.

I'm happy to see that all the tables are filled. It's only Thursday night, so that's a good sign.

The maître d, Jeni, sees me enter and rushes over.

'Boss, I didn't know you'd be here tonight,' she looks flustered.

I find it funny when she calls me boss, she is literally fifteen years older than me.

'Don't worry, I won't stay long. Just had a bad meeting with one of the investors, perv was hitting on me,' I explain and shudder again. 'I need a drink and then I'll be out of your hair.'

I shoot her a smile and head for the stairs.

'No problem, stay as long as you want boss!' Jeni hurriedly calls after me.

Bless her, she's scared of me. I have no idea why, I'm not a horrible boss.

I know the staff get nervous when I'm in the restaurant, so I won't stay for more than one drink.

I go upstairs to the second level, where we have the more exclusive tables and the bar. I lean against the bar and wait, with an amused smile, for Rafael to notice me.

He's pouring out the remnants of a cocktail into a glass. He adds some edible violets and slides the drink over to the waitress.

He catches sight of me in his peripherals and smiles, coming over to my end of the bar.

'Hey, Boss. What can I get you?'

'Pink gin, elderflower tonic, large,' I order and give him a look that shows what a day I've had.

He smirks and gets to work. 'Coming right up.'

I scan the room, checking for any notable customers that I might recognise.

A table of men in the corner catch my eye, they've booked the most secluded table in the restaurant, which I know costs extra. There's nine of them around a circular table, they're all Italian or Grecian looking and wearing suits. The one facing my direction catches my eye.

He's so handsome.

I can see, even though he's sitting down, he's tall. He has jet black hair, dark skin and dark eyes. He's the epitome of tall, dark and handsome.

He's leant back in his chair, looking relaxed and confident. He runs his thumb over his bottom lip as he listens to one of his colleagues.

I want to look away. This man has an air of danger about them, they all do actually. Something tells me the work they do isn't exactly legal, they look like bad news.

Mafia.

If a Wattpad book ever taught me something, it's what a table of mafia members might look like.

As if sensing my gaze, the man suddenly switches his eyes to me. We hold eye contact for a moment and he lowers his hand from his mouth, giving me full view of his plump lips.

His mouth turns up at one side in a smirk and I manage to tear my eyes away, embarrassed to have been caught looking.

'Here.' Rafael places my G&T in front of me.

'Thank you, Raf,' I mumble and eagerly take a sip.

I grab my drink and sit down at the bar, making sure my back is to the table so I can't embarrass myself further.

'Rough day?' Rafael asks and for the next half hour, we catch up.

I like Raf, he's my age and I don't often get to talk to many people my age. I only have Hanna, my best friend.

I spend the majority of my time doing the accounts for the restaurant and checking our expenditures. We don't have a bookkeeper, I do it all.

When my parents died, I had to grow up and be responsible much faster than people my age. I don't often go out, but Hanna manages to drag me out occasionally, like last weekend.

'You know, there's a gentleman at table thirteen-' This is the exclusive table, I already know who he's talking about. 'Who hasn't taken his eyes off of you, I'm surprised you can't feel them burning holes into your back.'

I can feel them actually, I've just been choosing to ignore it. I take a large gulp of my drink.

'He's rather attractive, isn't he,' I muse and Raf raises an eyebrow.

'Without overstepping the line, Boss, it's been a long time since you got some action. Maybe you should go introduce yourself,' he suggests and I glare at him.

'How would you know?'

Rafael laughs at me.

'Because you'd tell me, you always like to come and have a drink here when something big has happened. Tonight is an example of that.'

I roll my eyes and scoff, but he's right. I consider Raf a friend and I tell him everything really.

'You've got me there.'

'So, Boss, how long has it been? A year?' He asks and I wince.

'Almost two,' I mumble and drink some more.

'You haven't had sex in almost two years?' He splutters, his mouth hanging open in shock.

'Alright, no need to say it so loudly,' I hiss and self-consciously glance around to make sure no one heard.

'I mean this in the nicest way, but how is that possible? You're hot,' he blurts and I glare at him.

'I've been busy! There are a lot of other things on my plate right now.'

'Don't give me that, I bet even the prime minister finds time for sex,' Rafael comments crudely and I sigh.

'I guess. Hanna is always trying to make me hook up with someone when we go out, but I'm really picky. It's hard to find the right guy these days. Most of them are intimidated by me and the ones that aren't are just massive assholes.'

The last time I had sex was a one night stand, he was selfish he didn't even care if I was enjoying myself. The whole thing was a massive disappointment.

'I know, it's difficult. But seriously, you're selling yourself short here. You need a treat,' he laughs and I nod in agreement.

I finish my drink and thank Raf. I decide that I should probably go home and eat something. It's gone seven.

As I step down from my stool, I turn around and lock eyes with the Italian hunk again.

Damn, he's really is attractive.

But there's a little voice at the back of my head telling me he's dangerous.

I give him a quick smile, wave bye to Raf and go downstairs.

'Oh, Boss!' Jeni calls out and I look over my shoulder before I leave.

'Wasn't sure if you had plans for dinner, so I had Michele pack up some of his lobster ravioli for you,' Jeni hands me a bag holding a take-out box.

'You're a lifesaver, thank you.'

That's dinner sorted.

A catch a cab home and twenty minutes later, I'm stepping into my apartment.

I'm glad I live alone. I'm a bit of a neat freak and I couldn't deal with messy roommates, but I'll admit I get lonely sometimes.

I unpack the food, kick off my heels and sit down in front of the TV to enjoy Michele's signature dish. Michele is my head chef, and he's honestly one of the reasons the restaurant has been so successful.

After eating, I run myself a hot bath and light some candles. I sink under the water and lie back, savouring the relaxation.

Once I've dried off, I take off my make-up and collapse on my bed. I answer some emails and check my social before turning off the lights.

My dreams are dark and sexual and when I wake the next morning, I'm extremely horny and my thighs are sticky.

My cheeks heat up as I remember who I was dreaming of; the Italian man from my restaurant.

A girl can dream, right?

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The weekend passes quickly. I meet Hanna for drinks on Saturday, which turns into more drinks and suddenly we're in a night club and I don't get home till gone 3AM.

I spend the first half of Sunday asleep, and the second half hungover and wishing I hadn't woken up.

Monday is catch up day. The restaurant is closed, so I get out all the books and spread myself out on one of the larger tables.

The building is silent and empty, allowing me to make quick work of the accounts. By six o'clock, I'm satisfied that everything is in order.

I pour myself a glass of wine and grab the guest book from the stand next to the front door.

I keep it there for customers to write their reviews and feedback. If they're spending £30-40 for the main course alone, I want to make sure they're happy.

I sit down, take a sip of my wine and start leafing through the pages, reading the lovely comments people have left.

A knock on the front door makes me jump.

Can they not read the sign? We're closed.

I sigh heavily and stand up. I walk over to the door but halt in my step when I see who is standing there. Through the glass door I can easily see the Italian hunk standing at the doorstep.

What the hell is he doing here?

Confused and a little nervous, I cautiously open the door.

'I'm sorry, but we're closed,' I state and the man smiles at me.

Even his smile has the hairs rising on the back of my neck.

He's so tall. Six and half foot, maybe? I can't be certain about the exact measurement, but he towers over me.

'I'd like to speak with you, Miss Drake,' he says smoothly and my mouth parts in surprise.

It's not too shocking that he knows my name, but it still surprises me. What catches me off-guard, is the sexy-as-hell Italian accent coating his voice.

'Sorry, do we knew each other?' I reply and his smile widens into a grin, which both sends shivers down my spine and makes me clench my thighs together.

He's so attractive, it hurts.

'Not yet, Miss Drake. Now, may I come in?' He asks and I hesitate.

I look over his shoulder and see a black Range Rover and two bodyguards, stood waiting by the car. I'm not sure why a man like this would need protection, he's huge himself. Not only is he really tall, he's broad and muscular too.

'What do you want to talk about?' I question, eyeing the bodyguards.

I'm outnumbered and I don't like it. My restaurant is on a busy street, but I still feel uncomfortable.

'If it would make you feel uncomfortable, my men will stay outside. How about that?' He offers, his voice doing sinful things to my body.

I curse myself for its reaction to this man.

'Fine,' I concede and step to one side to let the man enter.

He nods at the two bodyguards and they don't follow him when he walks inside. He brushes past me and I get a whiff of his expensive cologne. It's strong and sexy and innately masculine.

Fuck.

Is everything about this man attractive?

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