Taken By The Mafia Lord

Marcel was so used to people tripping over his beauty that it didn't faze him when the waiter or whoever she was, almost drooled while taking his orders.

He needed two black coffees as darkly roasted as they came. He needed the bitterness, the way it stung reminded him of pain and the need to survive. And to survive means to desire nothing, to be free of emotions. Emotions were blinding and human - and he wasn't trained to be human. His line of work was for survival, to kill or be killed.

Marcel groaned, rubbing his temple, what's taking them so long? Where's the damn coffee? As much as he pretended not to be human, he was human and addicted to coffee as many humans out there are.

He tapped his finger against the rippled tabletop contemplating his next action. Should he wait some more or leave for the next coffee shop which was at least ten blocks away? No, he needed to think not to walk right now.

Moreover, leaving here means he would be under massive surveillance. His men were outside, blending with the crowd at strategic points and making sure there wasn't danger looming around the corner.

But inside, he was free, no eyes to watch him except the lustful ones - which he revels in. He was handsome and he knows it, so what? Why shouldn't he relish the attention?

None of his men were here to guide him making him vulnerable to attacks - that he could handle. He was skilled beyond his subordinate, enough to earn him a title and respect. And respect in this language means fear. They didn't just fear him because he's his father's son, but because he's Marcel.

Meanwhile...

"Where did you dig that nonsense from?" Mimi burst into laughter causing Arianna's brows to furrow in annoyance. If only they knew a certain mob boss was becoming fidgety with impatience.

"I should have known than to waste my time educating a bird brain," Arianna grumbled, done preparing both cups of black coffee. There was no added labor of adding cream or crafting designs on a drink that would go down the throat and down through the anus. End of the circle.

However, Mimi was not affected by the insult knowing this was nothing to their normal bickering. So she said, "In that case, you should go serve the psychopath then,"

Mimi smirked and before Arianna could tell what she had in mind, already pushed the tray to her chest and took her hands off leaving Arianna no choice but to grab it.

She smirked at the infuriated Arianna holding her with a glare that says, "You could have broken those glasses," and then their boss would take it off from her hard-earned salary.

Mimi countered with a smug look that said, "It didn't break, after all, did it?"

With an annoyed huff, Arianna walked around out of the counter, heading to the table beside the window - that was the customer, Mr psychopath.

However, Arianna didn't have the time to brace herself against the good looks that assaulted her before she even arrived at the table. Even from afar, his handsomeness was damaging. How could someone be this good-looking? It should be illegal.

No wonder Mimi fell in love at first sight with him. Mimi's past love interests were well, quite a sight, but then, none of them held a candle to this one. He was a lethal beauty, a mix of both sides - effeminate yet manly.

Shamelessly, Arianna's eggs cried in delight. A child with this man? Her womb would be blessed - her child would be quite a sight if she took after him.

What the hell are you thinking? Arianna internally scolded herself, recovering from the charm this stranger put on her. She had to remind herself that this stranger was the same person who ordered two cups of black coffee to drink all by himself - he was all alone. Even as a barista she was not a huge fan of such bitterness. "I love my bitter black coffee", said no one ever.

Marcel saw her before she saw him. His senses were a bit more active than the average human honed from years of training and battle. That was how he survived so far, depending on instincts.  He felt her stare all along and it carried no killing intention. So he let her stare.

His instincts warned him not to glance up but Marcel was never the one to back down from a challenge, so he glanced up. And nearly whistled.

Drop dead gorgeous was the only acceptable term for her. Marcel was not a fan of red hairs but he wholeheartedly agreed that this one suited her. Perhaps, the next woman on his bed would be a redhead - but definitely not this one, no matter how tempting she looked. Even for someone like him with self-control, it was hard for him to take his eyes off her - but he had to. Some people just don't belong to his world.

It wasn't until she arrived at his table that he saw her eyes clearly. The greenest of green he had seen so far, it reminded him of the forest and its tranquility. Danger! Danger! Steer clear of this one, their innocence has dragged many to the grave. Even if he gets a red hair in his bed, he would make sure she doesn't have green eyes.

"Sir, your cups of black coffee as ordered," She said to him and her voice sounded musical to his ears.

Warning! Warning! The voice of caution sounded once again in his ears. The girl was a siren disguised as a mermaid and poised to drag him to the bottom of the sea where she drowned him and have him for dinner. His father has clearly warned him against girls like that. Their only function was to scratch his itch, not drown his mind.

"It took you long enough," Marcel sounded less firm than he intended. They wasted his time, he should be scolding her, not petting her.

Marcel come on, get your head back into gear.

Suddenly his gaze noticed her furrowed brows and it made him wonder if she was hurt by his words. If that's the case, she was weaker than he thought and he wanted nothing to do with weak people, they slowed him down. They disguise him.

Just because he's handsome doesn't mean he can't be a psychopath, Arianna had to remind herself of that. She had watched enough movies and read enough books to know that. Murderer isn't written on their forehead, it's in their eyes and heart.

"Caution," Marcel noticed it in her gaze and he wondered, does she know him? Not that he remembered. Only people who knew him - or could read him - experienced fear. What category does she fall under?

Though people don't exhibit powers, some people are naturally repulsed by evil. Yeah, he was evil and she must be repulsed by him.