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"I'm sorry, what?" The brown-haired woman couldn't believe her ears...

Go out with the most feared and respected mafia and billionaire? That was something way above her league.

But why was he doing it? The reasons weren't clear to Loretta.

"I said that—"

"I'm sorry to interrupt, but what would you like to have?" The waiter with a strong Italian accent asked.

"Whatever she will have is fine by me," Fabian said with a smile on his face.

Why the hell did he do that? Well, it seemed like Loretta wasn't in the mood for games, so she ordered, "I'll have a Bruschetta, just a small one, and a half portion of the Carbonara, okay? And a glass of Pinot Grigio, thanks."

The waiter bowed and left.

"Didn't know you like things in halves?" Fabian asked, but his hands were drawing some circles on the back of Loretta's wrist, and it did something to her.

She was uncomfortable, but she liked the discomfort. She wanted him to stop, and at the same time wanted him to continue.

Snapping herself out of it,