Taming the Tiger: Chapter 2

“This is Karina—you can call her Rina. She’s Andrew’s niece. I’m sure you remember Andrew.”

Roman’s grandfather introduced the young woman—a tall, poised beauty with long hair, dressed in a white jumpsuit that accentuated her confidence. She had been invited to dinner with the Accardo family because Roman’s grandfather wanted to introduce her to his grandson.

“Of course, I remember him,” Roman replied nonchalantly. “He was the one who went up against me in the concession bidding. Lost, if I recall correctly.”

“Roman, mind your words,” his grandfather warned, not wanting to stir trouble with an old friend.

“It’s alright, Grandpa Frances,” Karina responded smoothly, unfazed by Roman’s remark. “What he said is true. But even though we lost the bid, my family holds no grudges. After all, the winner was still one of our own.”

She glanced at Roman with quiet intrigue. She had been interested in him for a while, and knowing that their grandfathers wanted to unite the families only made her more excited—though she kept her enthusiasm well-hidden.

Roman smirked slightly at her response. No doubt, Karina was stunning—any man would be tempted to steal a second glance. If she weren’t Andrew’s niece, he might have considered inviting her to his bed. But as things stood, that was out of the question.

“Thank you for not taking offense at my grandson’s words,” Frances said with a light chuckle.

“Dinner will be ready soon,” he added. “Why don’t you two get to know each other a little? I’ll go check on Roman’s grandmother.”

With that, he excused himself, leaving the two alone in the sitting room. Well, not entirely alone—Roman’s men were stationed in the corners, watching quietly.

“So, are you here for business or just visiting your grandfather?” Karina asked, breaking the silence.

“Both,” Roman replied curtly, his tone indifferent.

He had no intention of entertaining her, nor did he care to be polite. He had already warned his grandfather about Andrew, but the old man was stubborn, refusing to sever ties. And now, he wanted Roman to entertain Andrew’s niece?

Roman was nearly in his late thirties, yet he had no desire for a serious relationship. His world was dangerous, and he refused to let anyone become a liability.

“Grandpa Frances has told me so much about you,” Karina continued. “I’ve been wanting to meet you in person.”

Roman smirked. “Did he tell you the good things or the bad?”

“Oh, only the good, of course,” she replied playfully.

“Huh. That’s a surprise,” Roman scoffed. “Didn’t think I had any redeeming qualities worth bragging about.”

He could already guess—his grandfather must have talked him up, hoping to spark Karina’s interest.

Before Karina could respond, another voice called out.

“Well, if it isn’t Karina.”

Roman didn’t need to turn around to know who it was—his cousin, his uncle’s son, standing just behind him.

"Hello, Marco," Karina greeted warmly. She was already familiar with him, having met him several times before.

"You’re not even going to acknowledge your older brother, Roman?" Marco’s voice carried a hint of irritation.

A part of him couldn’t help but resent Roman. No matter what, Roman always seemed to excel—outshining him in ways that led to constant comparisons within the Accardo family. And that was despite Roman not even carrying their last name.

Roman didn’t bother with a greeting. Instead, he said flatly, "Good, you’re here. Keep her company. I have work to do."

"You’re giving me orders now?" Marco snapped. "I’m the eldest grandson of the Accardo family, not one of your underlings, Roman!"

Roman cast him a sidelong glance—filled with nothing but disdain.

"Please, don’t argue," Karina interjected, trying to ease the tension. "You’ll upset Grandpa Frances."

Roman said nothing. Without another word, he turned and walked out of the sitting room, his men following close behind.

Marco could do nothing but glare at his retreating figure, seething with frustration. Karina, on the other hand, watched Roman go with a tinge of disappointment—though she consoled herself with the thought that they would meet again at dinner.

***

"Hey, Kit, aren't you jealous? I'm about to sleep with another man, you know."

Tommy's teasing voice broke the silence as Kit drove him to the hotel where he had an appointment with someone. Kit hadn’t asked who Tommy was meeting—he was simply following orders to escort him discreetly.

Because of that, Tommy had to disguise himself a little. Kit had carefully helped him avoid paparazzi and fans, sneaking him out of his residence and straight to his rendezvous point. Only Kit was assigned to escort him tonight to keep things low-profile.

All Tommy had told Kit was that "someone important" had invited him to bed. But Kit knew that Tommy’s idea of an invitation usually came with a hefty price tag.

"T.T., don’t joke around," Kit replied flatly. "You and I are just having fun. You don’t have feelings for me either."

He knew Tommy well enough. The man never got attached to anyone he shared a bed with—it was just for fun, nothing more. Tommy chuckled softly at Kit’s response.

"Aren’t you at least a little surprised? A celebrity like me taking paid gigs in bed?" Tommy asked bluntly, testing the waters. He liked to gauge people’s reactions, see if they flinched.

"That’s your business, not mine," Kit said matter-of-factly. "You hired me for security, not to meddle in your personal life."

Tommy smiled, satisfied with the answer.

"You ever think about how much money you could make if you sold my secrets?" Tommy probed further.

Kit chuckled. "I don’t need the money. Like I said, I took this job just to kill time."

That put Tommy at ease.

"You're a pretty straightforward guy. Be honest, do you have a girlfriend?" Tommy asked, shifting the conversation.

"I’m not looking for one," Kit replied. "I like my freedom."

Tommy laughed. "Same here."

"By the way, do you want to know who I’m about to sleep with?" Tommy asked again. Kit let out a sigh, exasperated by Tommy’s bluntness.

"Don’t make that face. I know what I should and shouldn’t say to people," Tommy added with a light chuckle, unfazed.

"Have you heard of Roman Vasillo?" Tommy asked. Kit shook his head.

"What? Seriously? You don’t know him? He’s a world-famous businessman! And his grandfather’s family was a major mafia syndicate in Italy," Tommy said with excitement.

"Why would someone like me know about people like that?" Kit replied indifferently. He had no interest in the business world or high society—he just lived his own simple life, following his own interests.

"Man, talking to you is no fun. I thought you’d at least be excited about this," Tommy sighed, sounding disappointed.

Kit smirked slightly. "Why should I be excited? I’m not the one sleeping with him."

"True. I’m the one who should be excited. I wonder if Mr. Roman is as rough as my seniors say he is," Tommy mused aloud.

Kit could only sigh at Tommy’s carefree attitude, wondering what kind of man this Roman Vasillo was to have Tommy so eager—even before they had even met in person.

Not long after, they arrived at the hotel. Kit called the contact who was supposed to pick Tommy up. The other party gave him the VIP parking location.

Once the car was parked, two men in black approached. Kit studied them carefully. One of them knocked on his window, and Kit rolled it down just enough to hear.

"I’m with Mr. Roman. I’m here to escort Mr. Tommy upstairs," the man said, showing his phone screen with the number Kit had just called. Kit nodded and unlocked the door, letting Tommy out along with him.

"You guys know I have to go up with him, right?" Kit said.

"Yes, please follow us," Roman’s man responded in a neutral tone before leading Kit and Tommy to a private elevator that went straight to Roman’s penthouse—a place Ivan had set aside for Roman whenever he came to Italy.

Kit stood beside Tommy, calm and composed, showing no excitement—this was just work for him. When they reached the penthouse, Kit immediately noticed several more men in black stationed around the area. It confirmed to him that the word "mafia" likely did apply to Roman. He just didn’t know what kind of business the man was involved in—not that he cared to find out.

"We’ll take Mr. Tommy to his room to get ready. The boss is on his way and will be arriving soon. As for you, I’ll take you to the lounge to wait," one of Roman’s men said.

"Would it be a problem if I waited outside by the pool instead?" Kit asked, nodding toward the outdoor area where a swimming pool was located.

Roman’s man hesitated for a moment.

"I just want to get some fresh air while I wait. If it’s not allowed, that’s fine," Kit said in a neutral tone.

The man thought about it—Roman would probably be spending quite some time with Tommy, and it wouldn’t be surprising if the bodyguard got bored waiting.

"Fine, but don’t wander around. If you need anything, let my men know," Roman’s subordinate replied. Kit nodded in satisfaction.

"I’ll wait here, then. When you’re done, have someone call me so I can take you back," Kit told Tommy before he was escorted to his room to prepare. Meanwhile, Kit followed another one of Roman’s men to the poolside area, where a bar was conveniently located nearby. That brought a small smirk to Kit’s lips—at least he could have a drink while waiting.

"I can drink, right?" Kit asked, just to be sure.

"Go ahead," the man responded casually. This area was set up to serve drinks to guests anyway.

Hearing that, Kit headed straight for the bar, ordered a light drink, and sat down, enjoying his drink while waiting for Tommy.

***

"Tommy's arrived, right?" Roman's steady voice came from inside the car, tinged with slight irritation. His dinner had been far from enjoyable—he had clashed with both his grandfather and uncle during the meal, and Marco had taken the opportunity to stir the pot even further. The frustration had driven him to leave early.

Even before dinner, Roman had already instructed Travis to have Ivan contact Tommy. He knew he'd be in a foul mood tonight and would need something—someone—to take the edge off.

"Yes, sir," Travis confirmed. His men at the penthouse had already called to report Tommy's arrival.

Roman responded with a low hum. If not for his grandmother's presence, he would have overturned the dinner table.

"Keep an eye on Andrew’s group and Marco’s men. See what they’re plotting," Roman ordered. He was certain those two were scheming against him.

"Understood," Travis replied firmly.

"Boss, Nathan just checked in. He wants to know if you'll be attending Margaret’s charity auction," Travis added.

"When is it?"

"In two weeks."

"Tell Nathan I'll go. I’ll bid on something for my mother," Roman answered. Travis nodded and quickly sent a reply before the car pulled up to the penthouse.

As Roman stepped out, his men fell into formation, ensuring his security as they escorted him inside. Once they reached his floor, he dismissed the team that had accompanied him and handed security duties over to the stationed guards.

"Good evening, Boss," his men greeted as he entered. Roman gave them a curt nod.

"Mr. Tommy is—" One of the guards started, about to inform him that Tommy was waiting in the room, but Roman raised a hand to cut him off.

"I need to call my dad first," he said, pulling out his phone. He had just remembered something he needed to tell his father.

Heading to the poolside for some privacy, Roman was about to dial when his sharp gaze landed on an unfamiliar figure sitting at the bar. The man had removed his suit jacket, draping it over the chair beside him. His shirt sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, revealing intricate tattoos along his forearms—tattoos Roman was certain none of his men had.

Roman walked up to the man in front of him, assuming it might be Tommy—someone he had never met before. He hadn’t yet made the call to his father. Instead, he reached out to grasp the other man's shoulder.

Swish.

Instinctively, Kit, who had been savoring his drink, turned and swiftly grabbed the wrist that had landed on his shoulder. The sudden movement caused Roman’s bodyguards to surge forward, ready to act, but Roman raised his other hand, signaling them to stand down. Kit, momentarily taken aback, furrowed his brows at the imposing man before him—sharp features, a faint shadow of a beard, and piercing gray eyes that exuded an icy indifference. There was no trace of fear or surprise in his expression.

"Are you Tommy?" Roman asked, his gaze scanning Kit from head to toe.

Realizing who the man before him must be—judging by the reaction of the surrounding bodyguards—Kit released his grip and answered calmly, “I apologize, but I’m not Mr. Tommy. I’m his bodyguard.”

There was no hesitation, no sign of intimidation in Kit’s demeanor, which intrigued Roman. It was rare to meet someone who could remain this composed in front of him.

"What’s your name?" Roman asked, his sharp gaze lingering on Kit.

"Kit," he replied straightforwardly.

One of Roman’s bodyguards quickly interjected, “Apologies, boss. I told him to wait here.”

Roman gave a short nod. “Fine, let him be.” Without another word, he turned and walked back inside.

Kit watched the broad-shouldered man disappear before turning back to his drink, unconcerned.

Inside his private room, Roman made his call to his father, speaking for a while before hanging up. Then, he headed to the guest bedroom where Tommy was waiting.

The singer's small, seductive frame and natural expertise quickly helped Roman release his pent-up frustration. But at certain moments, Kit’s face unexpectedly flashed through his mind, irritating him.

In response, he channeled his frustration into Tommy, his movements growing more intense—until nothing but the sound of the singer’s pleasured moans filled the room.

***

"Go pick up your check from my men," Roman said flatly, his voice devoid of emotion. Now that he had fully released his frustration, he was done. Tommy had already showered and dressed, preparing to leave. He knew better than to linger—Roman wasn’t the type to appreciate unnecessary delays.

"Thank you. So… was I able to satisfy you?" Tommy asked in a honeyed tone.

"Mhm." Roman gave a short, indifferent hum in response.

Tommy felt a tinge of disappointment—no praise, no acknowledgment of his efforts. But he had to admit, Roman’s skills in bed were unmatched—intense, commanding, and relentless. It had left Tommy more than satisfied.

"Well, I’ll be going then. I hope I get the chance to share your bed again." Tommy teased, hoping for some reaction. But Roman said nothing.

With that, Tommy exited the room, while Roman, still clad in his bathrobe, walked in the opposite direction—straight to his bedroom.

Tommy went to pick up his check from Roman’s men before heading to where Kit was waiting. As he approached, he noticed Kit engaged in some sort of activity with Roman’s subordinates, piquing his curiosity. One of them nudged Kit, signaling Tommy’s arrival. Kit looked up.

"Done?" Kit asked simply.

Tommy nodded. "What are you guys up to?" he asked, intrigued.

Kit smirked slightly. "Nothing much, just finding clients." Then, turning to two of Roman’s men, he added, "Hey, if you guys ever want some ink, stop by my shop. But for now, I need to head out."

"Sure, we might drop by sometime," one of them replied.

A few moments later, one of Roman’s men escorted Kit and Tommy to the parking lot.

"Need me to help you walk?" Kit teased, noticing that Tommy was moving stiffly.

Tommy shot him a playful glare. "I’m fine. Just a little sore, that’s all."

Once they settled inside the car, Kit glanced at Tommy, who looked visibly drained.

"So… how was it?" Kit asked, a hint of amusement in his voice.

Tommy chuckled despite his exhaustion. "Are you asking about Roman’s skills in bed?"

Kit let out a soft laugh.

"I won’t compare you two—because honestly, I can’t choose." Tommy grinned mischievously, though deep down, he knew the truth. If he had to rate them, Roman had the upper hand—more stamina, more intensity. But when it came to technique, Kit was just as good.

Kit shrugged, unfazed. "No big deal. Anyway, if you’re tired, get some rest. I’ll wake you when we get to your place."

Tommy hummed in agreement, closing his eyes. The fatigue was real, and soon, he drifted off into sleep.

***

"The bodyguard that came with Tommy… nothing suspicious about him?" Roman asked, his tone measured.

"From what we observed, nothing out of the ordinary, sir," his subordinate reported. "Our guys said he didn’t ask any questions about you or anyone here. He just sat there, waiting, and spent his time designing tattoos. Eventually, our men approached him out of curiosity and asked to see his designs."

Roman raised an eyebrow. "Designing tattoos?"

"Yes, sir. Apparently, he owns a tattoo shop in Geneva."

Roman went silent for a moment, considering the information.

"Hmm. If there’s nothing suspicious, then that’s good. You can go."

Once his subordinate exited, Roman picked up his tablet and resumed his work.

***

Two Weeks Later

After completing his assignment of guarding Tommy, Kit returned to his tattoo shop and resumed his normal routine. But today, he had another job lined up—this time, as a bodyguard for a high-profile jewelry auction in Italy. His client? The owner of an elite luxury jewelry brand.

"Once you get paid, don’t rush back to Geneva. Stay and hang out with us for a bit," Rogan said, preempting Kit before he could decline. The team had just wrapped up their meeting, finalizing the security plan for the event.

"Where are we going?" Kit asked.

"Fishing, drinking—the usual," Rogan grinned.

Kit glanced at his phone to check his schedule before giving a small nod. "Fine. Three days, max."

Satisfied, Rogan smirked before they headed to the auction venue. Some of the security team had already arrived to sweep the area, while Kit’s group was assigned to personal protection. Billy led Kit and the others to meet Margaret, the event’s host—a striking woman in her fifties who looked younger than her years. She greeted them warmly before Kit escorted her into the auction hall.

With his eyes constantly scanning the room, Kit stood close to Margaret as guests approached her one after another. The crowd was a mix of high society and collectors, all mingling in anticipation of the event. But then—Kit’s sharp gaze snapped toward the entrance.

A commotion.

Media cameras flashed, heads turned, and hushed whispers filled the air. Women blushed and murmured excitedly. The cause of the stir? A particular group of men making their way inside. And at the center of it all—Roman.

Kit hadn’t expected to see the infamous mafia boss again.

At that exact moment, Roman’s piercing gaze locked onto Kit.

Neither of them looked away.

Kit had to admit—there was something undeniably captivating about Roman’s presence. Charismatic yet dangerous. A force that demanded attention.

Roman, on the other hand, recognized Kit immediately. He hadn’t forgotten that face. And he certainly hadn’t expected to see him here.

Before either of them could react, Margaret, having noticed Roman’s arrival, moved toward him eagerly. Her security detail followed closely.

"Mr. Roman, what an honor to have you here," Margaret greeted him with a warm smile.

"Thank you, Margaret. The honor is mine," Roman replied smoothly. He knew her well—she was an old acquaintance of his father.

"Are you planning to bid tonight?" Margaret teased.

"If something catches my eye, I might take it home for my mother," Roman answered casually.

But his gaze wasn’t on Margaret.

It was fixed on Kit—silent, watchful, standing just behind her.

"You're working here today?" Roman suddenly spoke up, causing confusion among everyone, including his own subordinates. They exchanged glances, wondering whom Roman was addressing.

Kit knew for sure that Roman was speaking to him because the man was staring directly at him.

"Yes." Kit responded with confidence, certain that the question was meant for him.

"Oh? Mr. Roman, you know my bodyguard?" Margaret asked curiously, surprised that a seemingly ordinary bodyguard like Kit would be acquainted with a powerful mafia figure like Roman.

"We’ve met before for work-related reasons." Kit answered before Roman could, prompting Margaret to nod in understanding and drop the subject. She then led Roman to his reserved table and continued greeting other guests.

Roman's gaze followed Kit’s tall, lean figure. Many men and women in the event wanted to approach him, eager to introduce themselves. However, the intimidating aura radiating from him kept most of them at bay—except for one man who confidently approached with his wife and daughter.

Roman’s bodyguards immediately moved to block them.

"I’m Dante, the Senate President," the man introduced himself. Roman gave his men a subtle nod, signaling them to let the man through. Dante smiled in satisfaction at this small victory.

"Good evening, Mr. Roman. I’m Dan—"

"I heard what you told my men." Roman cut him off with a flat tone. "What business do you have with me?"

Roman could already guess. If it wasn’t a request for financial backing for the government, then it was likely an attempt to introduce him to the senator’s daughter—who was now gazing at him with adoring eyes.

Dante faltered slightly before recovering. "Ah, I simply wanted to introduce myself. I’ve heard a lot about you and thought it would be good to get acquainted. This is my wife, Silvia, and my daughter, Rita."

"Good evening," Rita greeted as she extended her hand toward Roman.

Roman shook it briefly and released it almost immediately, causing the young woman to hesitate.

"Nice to meet you. But I’d like some private time now. I trust you’ll allow me that." Roman stated bluntly.

Dante, his wife, and daughter were visibly taken aback. The senator was displeased but knew better than to show his frustration. Roman's influence was too great to challenge. With no other choice, Dante led his family back to their table.

Had it not been for his interest in bidding on a piece of jewelry for his mother, Roman might have left the event already.

As the evening progressed, it was time for the jewelry exhibition. Models showcased exquisite pieces on stage, and Kit had to stand near the platform to oversee security. Coincidentally, his position placed him close to Roman’s table.

During the auction, various pieces were displayed on stage for all attendees to see. Roman watched the jewelry with a neutral expression—none had caught his interest.

That was until a men's watch adorned with colorful diamonds appeared on stage.

Roman wasn’t particularly interested in the watch itself.

He was interested in the way Kit couldn’t take his eyes off it.

"The starting bid for this watch is one million U.S. dollars," the auctioneer announced, prompting several bidders to raise their paddles. The price quickly climbed to 1,800,000 dollars, but no one placed a higher bid.

"Two million," Roman's deep voice rang out as he raised his paddle, stirring a buzz among the attendees. Even Kit turned to look at him. Roman’s subordinates exchanged glances, slightly surprised, knowing full well that their boss was not particularly fond of this style of watch. However, no one questioned him—it was his money, after all. In the end, the auction closed at two million dollars, with Roman securing the winning bid. His secretary, Nathan, was responsible for handling the payment.

"Boss, are you buying it for the master?" Nathan asked.

"No, I just felt like bidding," Roman replied curtly, his voice steady. Nathan refrained from pressing further, though curiosity lingered. Roman himself didn't quite understand why he had bid on the watch—perhaps because he had noticed Kit’s unwavering gaze fixed on it.

Even though they had just met, something about Kit's interest in the watch had compelled him to act.

Following the watch auction, other items continued to be presented. When a particular necklace was displayed, Roman found himself drawn to it. Deciding it would make a perfect gift for his mother, he successfully placed the winning bid.

***

"I might go blind after this event," Rogan muttered to Kit as they prepared to hand over security duties to Billy’s team. The next shift would take over Margaret’s protection during the late-night banquet, while Kit’s responsibility had only been for the auction. He had no issues with that arrangement.

"Why?" Kit asked, glancing at him.

"The diamonds are blinding," Rogan joked, chuckling. Kit let out a quiet laugh as well.

"Must be nice to be rich," Rogan mused casually. "They can bid on whatever they want, no matter how expensive."

"We have money too," Kit replied in his usual calm tone. "Maybe not as much as them, but we can still buy things that make us happy."

Rogan hummed in thought before smirking. "I noticed you kept staring at that watch Roman won. You like it?"

Kit raised an eyebrow slightly. "No, not really. I was just looking at the diamonds. They were so colorful and sparkly—reminded me of those over-the-top costumes in Thai ‘Likay’ performances. I was just wondering if someone wearing it would look like a Likay performer."

Rogan burst out laughing. He was familiar with Likay because Kit had once shown him YouTube videos of it.

"What if someone bought it for you? Would you wear it?" Rogan teased.

"Hell no." Kit shook his head firmly. "Not my style."