Bound by Duty to Dante Greyson

ANASTASIA POV

"Happy birthday, Ana," Bianca says from across me. "Maybe this year you can finally get your hands on some hot man in finance." She giggles, drunk out of her mind.

I shake my head at her, my head spinning, my eyes moving across the crowd of club-goers. Today is my birthday, and by tomorrow my dad is finally allowing me to be his chief finance officer.

"A dream come true," I whisper, downing the last of my drink.

"What?" Bianca lifts a brow in my direction, slowly bobbing her head to the music, her eyes glazed over with champagne.

"I have to use the bathroom," I yell back at her, pushing the stool back unsteadily.

She nods, flinging out two fingers. She points them at me and then back at her eyes, making me laugh.

I nod back at her, moving through the string of people, when the music abruptly stops, and the lights turn into a deep blue, plunging the room into mid-darkness.

I turn around the crowd, and I pause, disoriented from the sudden interruption.

My eyes move to the ceiling. Suddenly, the crowd disperses from the door, and people pull away in awe and fear, disclosing only my form in the middle, the lights reflecting down at me.

I gasp, holding my breath, as a male figure moves toward my still form.

The strong scent of his perfume whiffs into my nose as he passes by.

His face is covered by an old, classy hat, and his eyes are turned away from me, but I can catch his side profile.

Strong jawline and lips that make me breathless. I stumble on the floor, the entire room erupting in a gasp, but the attention is quickly taken off me when the music turns back on, and the gap simply closes like I was never there.

I tumble on the floor as people surround me, but fingers grip mine, pulling me out from the crowd.

I look up, and my eyes settle on a blonde man who walked in with the mystery man.

"Are you good?" he lifts a brow at me, concern on his face.

I choke, breathless. "Yes, I'm fine," I whisper, shaking my head as his form turns slightly blurry, still drunk from the lines of champagne Bianca and I have been gouging on all night.

"Rafaelle!" I hear a sharp voice to the right. He calls out his name swiftly, and his head rises.

My eyes meet with his bright blue eyes. His hair falls over his forehead as he fixes his hat on his head properly.

My heart pounds in my chest at the look in his eyes. He narrows his blue eyes at me, and they move across my form, sliding across my heels, down to my oil-glowing legs, which are covered slightly by the short golden dress Bianca fixed me in for my birthday celebration.

His eyes land on my face, but he swiftly pulls them away and turns to the man he called Rafaelle.

"I will be inside," he says, fixing his hands in his pockets. His long legs cross the floorboards, and he disappears into a back room.

"Are you sure you're okay?" The blonde man with brown eyes asks again as he turns his head to the side.

My heart still pounding from the look of the mysterious, gorgeous man, I pause, placing my hand on my chest. "I'm fine," I repeat with a small smile, almost choking on my spit.

Turning away, I stumble toward the bathroom, and for the first time in history, there's actually no line.

My mind reels back to bright blue eyes staring into my soul, and a silly smile creeps onto my drunk lips, but I immediately squash that thought.

For now, I am focusing on building my father's company and not falling for some hot, mysterious man.

"But I wonder who he is," I whisper to myself. Finishing up in the bathroom, I walk toward the sink.

"Him? The man that just came in?" an equally drunk girl laughs, entering the bathroom.

"You don't know who that is?" She lifts a brow at me, unbelief on her face.

I frown. "I could only see bits and pieces of him, but I admit he does look familiar." I frown, moving closer to her.

She scoffs, a look of shock on her face. "That is the man who controls 95 percent of this country. He is part of the top 10 richest men in the world. Their family is deep into years of old money, and I also hear, as much as he is wealthy, he is dangerous and plays a huge role in the mafia," she whispers, pulling back, eyes huge and expectant.

"Dante Greyson," I whisper, the words tumbling out of my mouth.

She nods, eyes wide. "He is dangerous, handsome, and loaded," she pouts into the mirror, re-arranging her lipstick.

"But he's brooding also. The man has never been seen with a woman except his best friend. If he didn't date that model who cheated on him in college, people would think he's gay," she giggles to herself, turning slightly to me.

"I did hear he's still seeing her, though," she shrugs, turning back to the mirror. She continues to rant.

"I don't know too much about their relationship, but that woman really had the gall," she pauses with a deep frown.

"If I had Dante Greyson for myself, I swear I would hold him down like my life depends on it," she whispers to herself, seeming to put herself in a room of imagination.

I nod, my mind filled with memories of him turning his eyes to me like that. Dante Greyson. I think the name makes my heart expand in my chest unknowingly. The man is very handsome, I admit.

My heart races at the thought of his eyes on me again as I turn back to the mirror, my blonde hair in a laid-back ponytail, and my green eyes blinking back at me.

I shake my head. Not only is he out of my league, but he also is not my type. I have had my fair share of dating rich boys, and they are all the same. They only see women as playthings, trophy wives who should be kept at home, and I am far from that woman.

The girl giggles to herself again as I walk past her. The hallway stretches towards the back, a door at the end of it, and the other stretches back towards the club.

I turn to head towards the club when the sound of a deep cry fills my ears.

"Nooo!!"

The sound makes my heart come to a still-and so does my entire body.