"When the Devil Chose Me" Chapter 3 — The Mafia Dinner
Emily stared at the message on her phone for a long time.
"Lunch today."
Not *Would you like lunch?*
Not *Are you free?*
Just… lunch.
Sofia paced across the room like a nervous cat.
"You're not going," she said for the fifth time.
Emily rubbed her forehead.
"I didn't say I was."
"You're thinking about it."
Emily hesitated.
That was the problem.
She "was" thinking about it.
Alessandro Romano was dangerous.
Everyone in Florence apparently knew that.
But the memory of his voice… his calm confidence… the way he looked at her like he already understood her…
It lingered in her mind.
Sofia crossed her arms.
"You're not seriously considering dating a mafia boss."
"I'm not dating him," Emily said.
"You got a text that basically said *come eat with the mafia*."
Emily sighed.
"Technically it just said lunch."
Sofia groaned.
"You Americans are going to get yourselves killed."
Emily grabbed her phone again.
For a moment she considered ignoring the message.
But curiosity burned too strongly.
She typed:
Emily:
You didn't ask if I'm free.
The reply came instantly.
Alessandro:
You are.
Emily rolled her eyes.
Three dots texted.
Then another message.
12:30.
I will send a car.
Emily stared at the phone.
"You see?" Sofia said. "That's not a date. That's a kidnapping with appetizers."
Emily hesitated… then typed back:
Fine.
Sofia screamed into a pillow.
---
At exactly 12:25, a sleek black car stopped outside Emily's apartment building.
Sofia peeked through the curtain.
"Oh my God," she whispered.
"What?"
"There are two cars."
Emily frowned.
"Why two?"
Sofia looked horrified.
"Because mafia bosses travel with security!"
Emily grabbed her coat.
"Well… at least I won't get mugged today."
"Emily!"
"Relax," she said with a grin.
"I'm just having lunch."
---
The restaurant sat on a quiet street near **Piazza della Signoria**.
It looked small from the outside.
But inside, everything was elegant and private.
The host immediately led Emily past the main dining room.
"To the private terrace, Signorina."
Emily blinked.
"You know who I am?"
The man smiled politely.
"Of course."
That answer did not make her feel better.
When she stepped onto the terrace…
Alessandro Romano was already there.
He stood near the railing overlooking the city.
Black suit again.
Dark sunglasses.
Like a man who stepped out of a movie about powerful criminals.
He turned as she approached.
"Emily."
She sat across from him.
"You really do the dramatic entrance thing well."
"Habit."
She looked around.
The terrace was completely empty except for them.
"You reserved the entire place?"
"Yes."
"That seems unnecessary."
"I dislike interruptions."
Emily raised an eyebrow.
"You mean witnesses."
His mouth curved slightly.
"Something like that."
A waiter appeared with menus.
Alessandro didn't even look at his.
"Bring the usual."
The waiter nodded instantly.
Emily watched him walk away.
"You come here a lot."
"Frequently."
She leaned forward slightly.
"So."
"So?"
"Everyone in my apartment now thinks I had dinner with the Italian mafia."
"And?"
"Are they wrong?"
Alessandro took off his sunglasses.
His dark eyes met hers calmly.
"No."
Emily blinked.
He said it so casually.
No denial.
No hesitation.
Just… yes.
She sat back slowly.
"Well."
"That was honest."
"I prefer honesty."
"You're a crime boss."
"I run a family."
"That's a very polite way to describe organized crime."
Alessandro watched her carefully.
"You're not frightened."
Emily shrugged.
"Should I be?"
"Most people are."
"Well," she said lightly, "most people don't invite mafia bosses to lunch."
The corner of his mouth lifted again.
"You accepted my invitation."
"That's because I'm curious."
"About?"
"You."
Their food arrived then.
Fresh pasta.
Wine.
Bread that smelled incredible.
But Emily barely noticed.
Because Alessandro hadn't looked away from her once.
Finally she asked the question that had been sitting in her mind since yesterday.
"Why me?"
Alessandro tilted his head.
"You truly want to know?"
"Yes."
He leaned slightly closer.
"Because you walked away from a man who did not deserve you."
Emily felt her breath catch.
"That can't be the only reason."
"No."
"Then what is?"
His voice lowered.
"You look at the world like you expect more from it."
Emily blinked.
"That's… oddly specific."
"And rare."
She stared at him.
A strange warmth spread through her chest.
Alessandro picked up his wine glass.
"And because," he added quietly, "I like the way you challenge me."
Emily laughed softly.
"Most people probably don't challenge you."
"They do not."
"Well," she said with a playful smile, "I'm American."
---
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