Hidden Secrets: Arrangement With A Mafia Boss.

Vera.

I'm never dating again in my life. Ever.

This has to be the last time that my heart will be feeling so torn apart. I've been so numb for the last three days since I learned that Rafael, my now ex fiance had been cheating on me with my own f*ck*ng secretary.

And worst of all, they tried to steal money from my company and leave the country and leave my company dying with debt.

A company I worked my *ss off to get. A company I started with many board members who annoyed the living sh*t out of me but I bore with them. My sweat and blood and tears.

But I have always been keen with my funds and I found inconsistencies three months ago but my mind never told me to doubt my very noble secretary or my own man. I never suspected any of them would be scammers.

They had been with me since I started the company. Walked with me even when I was barely earning enough money to pay my secretary and was living in a small rented double roomed house. Back when loans were so huge that I couldn't f*ck*ng breathe but they stuck around.

I was wrecked by how blinded I was by wasteful bonds and love.

Either way, it hurt like a b*tch. My heart is basically complaining. Wrenching and twisting in my ribcage.

I was so ready to actually put Rafael's name in my company and hand him some of my shares and that son of a b*tch was planning to steal from me and was not even slightly interested in marriage.

It all makes sense that he had been distant for the past two months.

There was no intimacy, no dates, no kisses. He just said that he was tired and I didn't question him because I was way too busy with my own company and wedding planning to actually realize how bad everything had been.

I try telling myself that I'm fine, that I'm a successful woman and that I'll be fine in a couple of days but I'm lying to myself.

Because here I am, on a Thursday night, at The Black room nursing a very bitter drink.

It's a high-end hotel bar, members only, where people are too busy with their life to care about who is drowning themselves in drinks. Or who is cheating on his or her spouse.

I'm in my second glass of whiskey. A Jack Daniel's and I don't know what else the bartender added. I wasn't really paying attention.

I'm here alone because Aria, my beloved best friend, went on a date with her mysterious man. And she couldn't cancel on him because he's not easy to see.

So yeah. I'm lonely. And I can't even cry because tears just won't come. I'm numb. I'm way beyond hurt and lonely. I feel like it'd be easier if I were to cry my eyes out.

But I seriously don't even know what I can cry about. The betrayal? The cheating? The end of a long relationship? I seriously have no idea.

I pour the rest of my drink in my mouth and wave at the bartender to bring me another drink.

I might as well get wasted. I know I drove here but who's to blame a girl for drowning her sorrows in alcohol.

I don't get to do this often, so I might as well have fun while I'm at it. I'll be breaking some traffic rules while driving home, but that's seriously the least of my problems right now.

The bartender comes to take my glass as he asks what drink I want and I tell him the same one as before.

I sit and wait for my drink as I listen to the depressing songs that are playing in the background. We need to talk with the management in charge of music.

My drink is brought and the person who brings it settles next to me. And I'm so ready to cause some violence from the invasion of privacy. He is not the bartender who served me earlier.

I raise my eyes and open my mouth to throw some very creative insults at the person but he speaks first.

“Are you okay, ma'am?” He asks, his voice deep and raspy.

And oh, he is fine. He's so gorgeous that even in my state of mind, where I have so much hate for men, I see it.

I don't say anything. I just stare at him and grab my drink. Because as fine as he might be, he's still a man.

“You are way too perfect and pretty to be sad and all alone in the bar. Listening to depressing music.” He says when I don't speak.

I'm just silent because I'm hoping that he'll get bored and leave me be. But that doesn't happen.

“A woman who is as gorgeous as you, people should be paying you to look at you. And thanking you for existing in the same room as them." He continues, his eyes glued on my face.

He must have seen the news. It was all over the social side of the news and also in business magazines. All over the gossip blogs.

Headline: BUSINESS WOMAN, VERA IMARA, HAS BROKEN OFF HER ENGAGEMENT WITH HER FIANCÉ FROM THE MAN TRYING TO STEAL FROM IMARA MODELLING AGENCY.

"And I'm starting to get convinced that you should pay me from how hard you are staring,” I say as I place my glass on the table.

His perfume and whatever he uses hits my nose.

Mint and a slight hint of tobacco. And it's quite delicious.

This is why I don't go to bars alone at times like these. I kinda end up making bad decisions and receive some very creative insults from Aria.

"Too bad,” he says, still seated next to me and not moving. "I'm not that rich. So you'll have to forgive me ma'am."

“I'll cut you some slack." I tell him.

"My name is Sage, by the way.” He says, straightening his hand.

"Vera.” I say, taking his hand and going back to drinking. Because that's exactly what I'm here for.

“Can you stop staring?” I say, clearly feeling a little uneasy from his intrusive gaze. “If I wasn't a little drunk, I'd be convinced you are flirting with me.”

“So what if I am? You are way too pretty for my sanity.” He says, looking like he actually means it.

This man has so much audacity that it's quite breathtaking.

His eyes move from my face to my hair that's in waves on my back and back to my face.

Would it be so bad to have a one night stand?

It doesn't sound too bad.

It's bad. Really bad.

Sage.

Being a Mafia leader is certainly not for the weak.

People who are still new in the underworld business mostly have their heads so deep and far up their asses that I have to count to ten in order not to push them off a building.

It should be illegal to be so stupid. People should be given lessons on how to be smart people.

So I usually come to my bar to decompress. Pose as a bartender to prevent myself from killing people because they are being stupid.

I usually don't come here more than once a week, but this is the second time I'm here this week.

And this time, I'm not complaining. At all.

Me coming here blessed my eyes with the most beautiful woman I have ever laid my eyes on.

She's more beautiful than the pictures of her in magazines. The cameras are quite unfair to her beauty.

She's probably the woman in every man's dream. I can't speak on behalf of