Ivery's brother from opposite gang?

**Ivery Clark POV**

A sudden chill ran through my spine feeling exposed to this kind of atmosphere, because I was never used to these things.

I may be a city girl but I lived a far more normal life unlike this richness exuding place.

Alrigo sensed my nervousness and let me wound my arms around his bicep. I felt sort of relieved feeling the strength of his muscles through his sleeves.

Whereas Alrigo on the other hand didn't seem to show any kind of emotions at all. Rather he strode in like he owned the place — because in some way, he probably did.

There was an ease to his movements, a quiet power that radiated from him, making it impossible not to look.

A maître d’ hurried over, bowing slightly, and greeted him with a reverence reserved for royalty. “Mr. King,” he said, his voice laced with respect. “It is an honour to have you here. Your table is prepared, as you requested.”

Alrigo merely gave a slight nod, his gaze steady, as if he expected nothing less. The maître d’ led us to a table near the back, away from the bustling centre of the room.

As we passed, I caught the curious glances from other diners — some appreciative, some fearful, and some with a recognition that sent a chill skittering down my spine.

It was quite surprising that they knew who he was in Paris, even if they would never dare to acknowledge it openly.

After all, Alrigo was a famous figure known to the whole world. His presence alone commanded the entire room, bending everyone to an unspoken rule.

People were afraid of him, and not just because of the wealth and power he carried so effortlessly. It was the kind of fear that came from knowing exactly who he was — the richest man on earth, yes, but also something much more formidable, much darker. The Mafia lord.

The staff seemed to appear out of thin air, arranging our chairs and pouring coffee and fruit juices before we’d even settled in.

"After you, ma bella." Alrigo's hand brushed against my lower back as he guided me into my seat, the touch grounding me even as it sent a spark through my skin.

I swallowed, feeling a blush rise to my cheeks, as if everyone in the room could see what had happened last night, could somehow sense the intimacy that lingered between us.

Alrigo then took his seat across from me, his stripping gaze briefly catching mine, and I saw the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips — like he knew exactly how flustered I felt.

It was enough to make me shift in my seat, half embarrassed, half thrilled by the way he looked at me — like he was starving and I was the only thing that could satisfy his hunger.

"Can you stop staring at me, please." I whispered, my cheeks going warm.

There was a slight curve to his lips, a hint of amusement that told me he was enjoying himself far too much.

"Why not ? You look even more delicious sitting there, ma bella." His voice was so low and intimate, it felt like a caress.

"That dress...fuck, it fits you so perfectly, it almost makes me want to tear it and lick you in all kind of places."

I almost choked on my orange juice. Heat rushed to my cheeks, and I could feel the blush spreading, all the way down to my neck.

"Alrigo, stop !" I hissed, my face practically burning. I shot him a glare, but there was no real anger in it, only embarrassment mixed with a fluttering excitement I couldn’t seem to suppress. “You can’t just say things like that… here.”

He chuckled, clearly enjoying my reaction, and leaned back in his chair, his gaze sweeping over me slowly, languidly.

"Why not ? It’s just breakfast." He said, shrugging slightly, "Besides, I like seeing you blush. It’s cute.”

"Cute ?” I repeated, my brow arching. “So the Mafia lord, the Alrigo Valerie King, do know how to find things cute."

He tilted his head, his eyes darkening as they met mine. “Oh, trust me there are a lot more things I find baby girl," he replied, his voice deepening, “but I'll save those for when we’re alone.”

My breath hitched at the suggestion, and I glanced around the dining hall, half expecting someone to be staring at us after that remark.

But no one dared to look our way for too long; the fear of catching Alrigo’s attention kept them at a safe distance.

I reached for a piece of fruit, trying to distract myself, but I felt his foot brush against mine under the table, the touch light and teasing.

"Why do you look so surprised, ma bella. You know, you really shouldn’t look so flustered, not when we share...the same dirty secret.” he voice was deep and husky, making my core tingle.

“Not when you milked every drop of my cum using that hot little tight pussy." His toes stroked higher on my legs and I bit my lip hard not trying to moan.

"Not when you liked being a dirty girl and getting fucked balls-deep by a older man like a fucking bad girl."

"Alrigo, please stop." I had to look away, my cheeks flushed as I struggled to find something — anything — to say that wouldn’t betray just how much he affected me.

"Why.. ? I did tell you this morning that I’d have a hard time keeping my hands off you, ma bella. Do you know how hard I'm for you ? I just can't wait to bounce that hot little cunt on my dick, feel my balls against your ass as I fuck you bare again."

I bite my cheeks to suppress a moan, the dirty words coming out of his mouth creating a rush of wetness between my thighs.

He can't be serious right now.

I opened my mouth to say something but then I heard a voice, advancing toward us.

"Mr. K..King what would you like to have ?" A waiter approached with a trembling smile, his voice stuttering slightly as he asked for our orders.

The interruption was jarring, like a cold gust of air cutting through the heat that had been building between us.

I glanced at Alrigo, half expecting him to brush off the intrusion as he often did. But the brief flicker of annoyance in his eyes didn’t go unnoticed.

His jaw tightened slightly, and the heat in his gaze turned sharp, almost predatory, as he looked at the waiter. For a moment, it was as if the entire room held its breath.

But then, just as quickly, Alrigo's expression shifted, the irritation smoothing into a mask of cool indifference.

He answered in a low, even tone, not bothering with pleasantries, and the young man scurried off as if grateful to be dismissed.

I smiled internally and looked to the side, out at the view. Even in the morning light, Paris was breathtaking.

The city seemed to stretch out endlessly before us, rooftops bathed in the early sun, the streets below coming alive with the quiet bustle of a new day.

I felt a quiet thrill as I took it all in, like the magic of last night hadn’t quite worn off.

The waiter arrived with our breakfast — a spread of fresh fruit, flaky pastries, eggs cooked to perfection, and steaming cups of rich coffee. It was simple yet elegant, the kind of breakfast that seemed meant for leisurely mornings where time didn’t matter.

"Can we eat our breakfast now ?" I whispered, I could feel the curious stares from the other tables, especially to me.

His chuckle was deep and warm. “Then eat up,” he murmured, leaning closer, “You’ll need the energy for later what we're going to do next.”

I nearly dropped my fork at the suggestiveness in his tone, and the blush returned with a vengeance, heating my cheeks all over again.

I couldn’t believe he was saying these things so casually, as if we were just any normal couple flirting over breakfast, not the complicated mess that we were.

"Alrigo, can you please quiet down ! People are going to notice ! What if they get the wrong idea." I shrieked, hiding my face. But the way he was looking at me, with that wicked glint in his eye, made it impossible to be annoyed.

"Let them. I want them to know. I want them to see exactly who you belong to.” He said, his voice a dark, velvety rumble that seemed to curl around me, pulling me in.

"And there is nothing wrong about it, bella. I do own you. Body and soul. You’re mine, and I want them all to see, Ivery. I want them to understand that you are mine to touch, mine to kiss, mine to protect...and only mine to fuck."

The way he spoke made my heart race, a mix of thrill and something dangerously addictive flooding my senses.

His obsession should have scared me, should have made me pull away, but instead, I found myself leaning in, drawn to his magnetic allure, leaving me breathless.

“You’re impossible,” I whispered, shaking my head but unable to tear my gaze away from his. “You’re… possessive.”

“And you love it,” he replied, his voice a low, knowing rasp. Admit it, bella. You like being *owned* by me.”

I should have denied it, should have said something to push back against the boldness of his words. But the truth was there, unspoken between us, and I couldn’t deny the thrill that came with knowing I had captured his attention so completely.

“You’re crazy,” I whispered, my voice barely audible.

“For you ?” His gaze softened, though the hunger still simmered beneath the surface. “Always.”

It was a strange feeling, knowing that I was here with someone who had the kind of power that made people afraid to even look in his direction. And yet, when he looked at me, it wasn’t with the same cold indifference he showed the rest of the world.

There was something softer in his gaze, something that felt almost... protective. It made me feel special in a way that I wasn’t sure I was ready to admit.

The rest of the world could be afraid of him all they wanted. But here, in this private corner of the restaurant, with the morning sun spilling in and the city waking up beyond the windows, I couldn’t bring myself to be afraid of him.

Not when he was looking at me like that, as if I was the only person who mattered. As if, in this moment, the whole world existed for us alone.