I Drunkenly Wrote 10 Rules For My Perfect Man In A Bar, Unaware The Mafia Kingpin Behind Me Was Memorizing Every Word

Nicholas handed the bakery box to Marco, then turned his dark, unblinking gaze onto Colton Avery.

The temperature in the sunny driveway seemed to plunge to freezing.

Colton backed away until the small of his back hit the hood of his BMW, his hands flat against the warm metal.

"Mr... Mr. Valenti," Colton stammered, his arrogance completely evaporating into pathetic, sniveling dread.

"I was just... I was returning some of Mara's personal books."

Nicholas took two slow, measured steps toward him, stopping inches away from Colton’s trembling face.

"Rule number eight, Avery," Nicholas said, his low baritone vibrating with lethal calm.

"He tells the truth even when the truth makes him look bad."

"You are lying in front of two ladies on a Sunday morning."

Colton swallowed hard, sweat running down his temple and soaking into his collar.

"I wasn't lying! I just wanted to talk to her!"

"You came here to ask a woman you abandoned to beg for your financial survival," Nicholas said, his tone devoid of anger, which made it terrifying.

"Let me clarify the situation for your shallow mind."

"Your secondary mezzanine note was purchased by Valenti Capital at eight o'clock yesterday morning."

"The land variance on 4th Street was denied by the municipal zoning board forty minutes later because your environmental impact filings were fraudulent."

"And twenty minutes ago," Nicholas added, pulling a slim gold pocket watch from his pocket,

"Vanessa Sterling’s father called my office to inform me that his daughter's engagement to you has been dissolved."

Colton gasped, his knees buckling beneath him, clutching the side mirror of his car to keep from falling.

"Vanessa... dissolved the engagement?!"

"She saw the foreclosure notices on the county registry," Nicholas replied smoothly.

"The Sterlings do not partner with insolvent men."

"You have until five o'clock on Friday to vacate your personal office on Congress Avenue, Avery."

"If you ever set foot on this street, or contact Mara Redford again,"

"Marco will ensure that your future business endeavors are conducted from a small concrete room with barred windows."

Colton looked at me one last time, his bloodshot eyes pleading for a single shred of mercy.

I looked at him and said nothing.

I turned around, walked up the porch steps, and stood beside my grandmother.

Colton scrambled into the driver's seat of his convertible, restarted the engine with a frantic roar, and backed down the driveway so fast he clipped the edge of the mailbox.

The limestone dust settled over the road as his car vanished toward the highway.

Nicholas turned toward the porch, looking up at Grandma Clara with steady, respectful eyes.

"Rule number five, Mrs. Redford," Nicholas said with a faint, charming smirk.

"He isn't afraid of your grandmother."

Grandma Clara chuckled, wiping her hands on her apron and opening the screen door wide.