Mafia girl

Still sprawled on the plush carpet, I blinked up at the woman towering over me. My brain took a second to register the reality of her presence. She wasn't just attractive; she was devastatingly gorgeous.

Her sharp features, those piercing purple eyes, and the tattoos that curled up her neck and onto her hands gave her an aura of danger that sent my thoughts spiraling.

Mafia girl.

The words left my mouth before I could stop them. Her lips twitched into a smirk, one side curving up in a way that made my stomach flip.

"Interesting first impression," she said, her voice low and smooth, like a distant thunderstorm.

I opened my mouth to stammer an apology, but she reached down, her tattooed hand extending toward me.

Her fingers were cold but firm as she helped me to my feet, and I was embarrassingly aware of how small my hand felt in hers.

Clearing my throat, I forced out a "Thanks." My voice sounded higher than usual, and I internally cringed.

Her smirk didn't falter, but she didn't say anything more. I debated asking her name or even her number or, if I were feeling particularly bold, suggesting we skip the small talk altogether and head straight to something more…interesting.

But before I could muster the courage to say anything, she turned and walked away, her boots clicking softly against the carpeted floor.

I stood there, staring after her like an idiot.

Disappointment bloomed in my chest. I mean, sure, the hotel was massive, and I might bump into her again, but what if I didn't? What if I'd just lost my one chance to… Okay, I needed to stop.

I was still standing there, lost in my thoughts, when Rowena appeared around the corner, hands on her hips.

She was still in her beach shirt, her expression hovering somewhere between exasperated and amused.

"What are you doing here?" she asked. "Moms are waiting, and you're wandering the halls like a lost puppy."

I flushed, smoothing down my dress as I turned toward her. "I got a little...distracted."

Rowena rolled her eyes, muttering something about me being hopeless, and motioned for me to follow her.

I cast one last glance down the hallway where the purple-haired woman had disappeared before reluctantly tagging along.

We made our way to the dining room, and as soon as we stepped inside, the air filled with the rich aromas of expertly prepared food.

The room was elegant, with soft lighting from crystal chandeliers and pristine white tablecloths adorning every table. A small group of diners was scattered throughout, but it was clear this space was exclusive.

A server approached with a polite bow, gesturing for us to take our seats at a large round table near the center of the room.

Seraphine and Riley were already seated, looking entirely at home, as if they owned the place which, knowing Seraphine, wasn't entirely out of the question.

I sat down, and Riley immediately fixed me with a stern look. "What took you so long?"

I shrugged, trying to look nonchalant. "I didn't know where the dining room was."

Riley frowned. "I told you earlier where it was. You must not have been listening." Her tone was laced with the kind of exasperation only a mother could pull off.

I opened my mouth to protest but decided against it. There was no winning against Riley when she was in full mom mode.

Before the conversation could continue, the server returned, carrying a tray with the first course. As he presented it, his voice was smooth and professional.

"For the first course, we have a trio of amuse-bouches," he explained. "A delicate lobster bisque with a hint of cognac, served in a miniature porcelain cup; a seared scallop with a citrus glaze, resting on a bed of microgreens; and a smoked salmon roulade with a cream cheese and dill filling."

The dishes were as beautiful as they sounded, each one presented with the kind of care that made me hesitant to dig in. But once I did, the flavors were exquisite.

The bisque was velvety and rich, the scallop perfectly cooked with a tangy brightness from the glaze, and the salmon roulade melted in my mouth.

The second course was equally stunning: a filet of beef cooked to a perfect medium rare, accompanied by truffle mashed potatoes, roasted asparagus, and a red wine reduction that added a savory sweetness to the dish.

The dessert was a dark chocolate fondant, its molten center oozing out as soon as my fork pierced the surface. It was paired with a raspberry coulis and a dollop of freshly whipped cream.

As I ate, I couldn't help but wonder who had prepared such incredible food. Whoever it was, they had talent, and a small part of me itched to find the kitchen and introduce myself.

But the rest of me was too preoccupied with thoughts of the purple-haired woman from earlier. Her image lingered in my mind like a stubborn echo, and I barely registered the conversation happening around me.

"Earth to Rhiannon," Rowena said, snapping her fingers in front of my face.

"Huh?" I blinked, realizing everyone had finished their meals and was now staring at me.

"You've been quiet," Seraphine said with a smile. "That's rare."

"Just...thinking," I muttered, pushing my plate away.

Rowena smirked. "Let me guess: you're still imagining being swept off your feet by some tall, dark, and tattooed stranger?"

I shot her a glare. "Mind your own business."

Riley leaned back in her chair, looking suspicious. "What stranger?"

"No one," I said quickly, my cheeks heating. "Let's just go back to our rooms."

As we stood, Rowena couldn't resist one last jab. "You two behave," she said, winking at Riley and Seraphine. "Try not to traumatize the neighbors with whatever noises you make tonight."

Riley's face turned red, while Seraphine burst into laughter, clearly unbothered. "No promises," Seraphine said with a grin.

I groaned, grabbing Rowena by the arm and dragging her out of the dining room before the conversation could get any worse.

Back in my room, I kicked off my shoes and changed into a pair of soft pajamas. The bed looked even more inviting than it had earlier, and I climbed under the covers with a content sigh.

As I settled in, my thoughts drifted to Ember. I hoped the mischievous dragon was doing okay back at Leora's castle. Knowing Ember, she was probably causing chaos and loving every second of it.

I closed my eyes, hoping sleep would come quickly, but my mind kept circling back to the purple-haired woman. Who was she? And why couldn't I stop thinking about her?