THE MAFIA’S MISTAKEN BRIDE

Xavier’s POV

Fear consumes me when I get to the car to see Jasmine and the driver missing.

Without hesitation, I whirl around, glancing around to see if I can catch sight of one of them with my thoughts running wild.

What the hell happened here?

I left Nicholas inside after he told me Andre was on her way to Paris. There is no need to stay back in Italy since I am done with the other business and I see no need to have Andrew and Mathew running after her either.

Nicholas will do that job or his wife will take the fall for it.This is property © of NôvelDrama.Org.

Racing back into the club, I feel a twinge of regret for the second time for coming to this club with Sophia in the first place even though it is a blessing bumping into Moore here. Who knows, he might never have told me anything if I hadn’t bumped into him.

Even though it is almost midnight, the club is still rowing with music and dance and the crowd isn’t even reducing at all. I force my way back to where Sophia and Jasmine were dancing earlier but can’t find any of them.

Not even Sophia.

Shit! I curse under my breath as I fish out my phone to call Ethan.

We need to find her.

If Sebastian is indeed out of Italy, then where is she?

The phone does not go through and I curse again, remembering how I ordered Ethan an hour ago to get on the next available flight to New York.

He must be on his way already.

Disoriented and confused about where else to find at least one of them, I move out again, looking lost.

Just before I can go back to the car, I see the driver, taking a swing of a cigarette in his hand and laughing at something on his phone.

I storm towards him immediately.

Before I can get close, he sees me and quickly drops the phone into his pants pocket before standing at attention.

“Where is she?!” I demand loud enough for him to hear me.

Trembling, probably because he thinks I want to scold him for using his phone on duty or smoking, he replies, pointing towards the entry of the club. “She said she needed to use the ladies.”

“What? And you let her go all by herself?” I exclaim in surprise.

What the hell!

Without waiting for his reply, I turned back and ran into the club. Deep down, I know he can’t even follow her to the ladies when she wants to urinate and I wonder why I am being aggressive on him because he didn’t do that.

Sophia bumps into me. “Hey.”

“Where is Jasmine?” I ask her but she only shrugs in ignorance. I’m sure she hasn’t seen her either. I’m supposed to warn her never to come into my house nor bring Jasmine here again but I see no need. We are going back home tomorrow.

With another cold glare from me, I bustle away towards the ladies’ toilet, hoping she would still be there.

She seemed tipsy earlier and I’m sure she isn’t sober yet. What if she goes off the wrong way or something happens?

I halt in my tracks when a silly question popped into my mind.

What if this is an excuse for her to escape from me finally? Perhaps she has been putting up those acts to get me fully assured that she doesn’t know a thing and would not run away like Andre did.

Fear claws at my belly.

This is really bad. If she is off like I am thinking, then Sebastian will get to her in no time.

I get to the ladies and almost push the door open before reminding myself that this isn’t the male’s toilet.

Taking a deep puff to calm my nerves, I look around to see no one in sight before knocking gently on the door.

There is no reply.

No form of sound from inside, making me stick my ears to the door.

Just silence.

I knock again, my desperation kicking in and making me feel a rush of adrenaline.

“Andre?” I call out, careful not to call her the name on my mind.

“Xavier?” A gag sound comes from within but the door does not open.

“Are you ok?” I question sharply, relief washing through me at the sound of her voice.

It takes a while for her to respond. “Yes.”

A sigh of relief leaves my mouth and I am about to step away from the door to lean on the wall so I can wait for her when the door opens and I find myself dragged into the bathroom with my tie.

My eyes widen and collide with those of Jasmine’s.

She throws the door close and slams her lips onto mine immediately, sucking the breath out of me. Her tongue slips deep between my closed lips, parting them and giving room for more exploration of the insides of my mouth.

This is when I can close my eyes.

To enjoy it.

Without giving a care in the world if she is the one initiating the kiss now or not. Or about the place where we are kissing right now.

She isn’t acting like a novice like she first did the first time we kissed. Her two hands crawl over my entire face as she continues to kiss me with passion, a low moan leaving her mouth and driving me to the edge.

Suddenly, her hands leave my face and find their way to my tie which she loosens within a second, forcing open my coat and the inner shirt before trailing her hand over my hairy chest.

I almost let out a sound of satisfaction at what she is doing but I am keeping my cool, reminding myself that this is wrong.

Why is she doing this? Did she enjoy those kisses too like I did? Did she think about those kisses whenever I wasn’t around her like I do too?

Does she like me?

At the last thought, my heart skipped a beat. And suddenly, it feels as if there is a spark inside of me.

She likes me.

It is obvious.

Andre would never do a thing like this and this isn’t Andre. This is Jasmine.

My white-haired mistaken bride. She likes me.

Just as I was about to start taking control of the deep hot kiss with her hands trailing all over me, making me feel alive like any man would feel, her lips stop moving on mine, pulling me out of my weird and silly thoughts.

Before I can open my eyes, she slips her tongue into my mouth again and I am pushed back into another world where only we exist.

My hands find their way to her petite waist and she drops her hand to my trousers, unzipping my belt, making me jerk forward and wondering just how much alcohol that silly Sophia gave her.

Jasmine might like me but she would never do a thing like this in her real senses. She is one shy woman. One of a kind.

At the thought of her liking me, my heart begins to race again. Despite how I treated her harshly, despite my rude behavior, despite my cruelty, she likes me.

Just before she can remove my belt, she stops kissing me again and burps. I flutter my eyes open immediately to meet her intent gaze.

Slowly, she pulls away, taking a step backwards, as if realizing what she just did. While doing that, she clamps her hands around her mouth as another burp leaves her mouth.

I am about to ask if she is okay when she squats down suddenly and begins to throw up every single thing in her.

I watch with dread.