Summary:

"Lipstick, Chateau, the color of wine.

A shower in bubbles of white champagne."

She didn't like people like him. In fact, she hated people like him. He is the embodiment of everything that she was brought up to avoid. Somehow, that doesn't prevent her from going back time and time again. It's not long before her nights are spent listening to him complain about work and the greedy tycoons that he has to deal with, which somehow always ends in him making love to her against his silken sheets. She's there during his favorite pastime, wearing some expensive dress by a person whose name she cannot pronounce as he tosses money around like it's nothing. Maybe to him it is nothing, but he always ends up getting it back tenfold, a smug grin on his lips, eyes always coming back to rest on her. She's his lucky charm, he tells her one night, and Draco was always a great believer in luck.


I am simply trying my hand at something new. This story is going to be a Mafia AU fic. I feel that there aren't enough of those in the Dramione fandom.

This first chapter is inspired entirely by a K-Pop related drabble. It's a Baekhyun (Exo) Lotto inspired drabble that is probably one of my favorite drabbles ever. I've gotten permission from the auther to use the first part as inspiration for the first chapter (although they will basically be identical with minor changes of course). You can find the fic ( in case you're curious) and the author at - myexoticfeels . tumblr

WARNING: THIS FIC WILL CONTAIN AND MENTION HEAVY AND MATURE TOPICS SUCH AS VIOLENCE, ABUSE, ALCOHOL AND DRUG USE, GAMBLING, MURDER, CORRUPTION, AND THEFT. IT IS NOT FOR THE FAINT OF HEART. 18+

Warning: Dark!Possessive!Draco


The first time she met him was when she had to pick up Teddy, who was wasted at a party.

It was after a bitter voice blurted out an address over the phone that she found herself nervously stepping out of her car and into a towering building. Apparently, her name was one of the only ones on his contact list without a nasty nickname attached to it. The others were probably other snobbish tycoons who Teddy had to deal with.

Loud music nearly burst her eardrums as soon as she stepped inside. She wasn't sure if the place was a mansion or some kind of resort, and though it's not clear, what is clear is the group Teddy hangs out with.

Theodore "Teddy" Nott has always been a rich kid, his father the president of a rather large conglomerate and his wealth having no limits. Perhaps it's because he's still young, or because his older brother has more responsibility than him within the company, but she knows that when he's not drowsing in his classes at university, he's attending parties held by rich socialites, more often than not including illegal drugs and some gambling.

It's before she can step any further that a man towers over her, shouting over the music, "What's your business here?"

"I came to pick up Theo," she stated, though her words came out in small squeaks and mumbles.

She refrained from using his given nickname around this crowd, almost positive that he would not appreciate it.

It was a miracle that the male understood her over the music. He simply nodded and led her through the crowd. The warmth of crowds of bodies and the dimmed lights made her head dizzy, her mind unable to register the rustling of cash being thrown on a long table and the sloshing of alcohol in expensive glass cups.

She approached a room that was quite large, but she felt something unsettling tugging at the back of her mind. A swarm of sultry girls and guys, drunk on wine, laugh and throw bills like cheap scraps of paper at two men fighting in what seemed to be a metal cage.

The tall male left her side for a moment, and it was in that moment that a peculiar male swiveled around, Rolex on his wrist and Armani garbing his slim body. His pale blonde hair glowed in the dim lighting, the ends curling just underneath his ear. He held an ornate glass, dark wine glimmering in the low light. He cheered as one of the men fell to the ground, cash thrown at his feet as people groan about how he always seemed to place his bets on the right guy.

His eyes met hers for a moment, silver and striking, and perhaps it was the light or the scent of drugs, but she thought could see a smirk play on his wet lips.

This man would be the one to change everything.

She only had a moment to observe his face, because the tall male returned with Teddy, unable to stand on his own two feet.

"Are you Theo's girlfriend?" the tall man asked.

"I'm just a friend," she answered.

"I see," he nodded, an impish twinkle in his eye as if he didn't believe her. "I'm Blaise, one of Theo's friends. Both of you, take care."

"Thank you," she murmured, a terse handshake shared with Blaise before she left with Teddy's body draped against hers.

She has often been mistaken as Teddy's girlfriend. She's simply his friend.

At least, that's what she thinks…

Their fathers were childhood friends, yet she had never met him until her first year of university. After meeting at a dinner party his family had hosted, she realized they had a few classes together. She had gotten him out of a few sticky situations- lending him notes for his classes, offering him a place to sleep when he couldn't return home with the scent of alcohol and cigarette smoke woven into his expensive suits, and picking him up from gambling parties. It was obvious to anybody that Theo was affectionate for her, evident in the warm smiles he gave her, as opposed to the harsh glares he offered to anyone else.

"Is that you?" Teddy murmured as she got him into the car.

"Yeah, it's me," she mumbled, sliding into the driver's seat and starting up the car. "I'm taking you back to my place."

"Thanks," he murmured.

The image of dirty cash and bodies intertwined under colored lights is one that stayed in her mind for a while.


The second time she saw him, Teddy is at another party, but at the same place, perhaps about a month later.

She attempted to dress up at least a little this time, a deep red blouse falling over her shoulders and a black skirt wrapped around her waist. When she arrived, she was not as surprised by the loud music and cheering.

"You're back," Blaise smiled.

"Why was I called this time?" she asked.

"Theo's drunk," he answered, but when she turned her head, she saw Teddy leaning against the wall, laughing drunkenly while a girl was pressed flush against him, a flirty smile gracing her lips.

Yet he didn't seem nearly as wasted as last time.

"He seems alright," she said, almost grumbling.

The place was quite the drive from where she lived, and she was a bit put out to have driven all this way for nothing.

"He always talks about you when he drinks," Blaise winks.

She frowned, and she wondered if this is all just a joke.

She simply stood in place, until Teddy made his way through the crowd to find her. He was only slightly disoriented, his eyes wavering.

"You're here," he slurred happily, until the girl appeared at his side once more.

"You shouldn't drink so much," she scolded, but the other girl was already dragging him away, as he yelled, "I'll be right back."

She stepped through the crowd to find him, only to end up surrounded by indifferent people swaying to the music.

She turned around, heading back towards the door, until she nearly collided with a chest. Her eyes flickered up, and her breath hitched as she recognized the male as him. His eyes were as shiny as the silver ring on her finger, yet swimming with an inviting darkness, and the satin button-down he wore revealed tempting slivers of skin around his chest.

Her eyes darted to his wrist, and the Rolex was there, but it was a different style this time.

"Theo's girlfriend?" he asked, an eyebrow dipping menacingly as a wicked smile crosses his lips.

"We're just friends," she answered with a heavy sigh.

The male held out a calloused hand.

"Draco," the name rolls off of his tongue like a purr, and he smiled as she curtly shook his hand.

"Hermione."

She nearly had to yell her name for him to hear over the crowd and the music.

"Where is Theo?" Draco asked, but she got the feeling that he really didn't care.

"With another girl," she answered.

Hermione was about to tell him that she wanted to leave, she wasn't ready to tell her parents why she was at a party with drugs and gambling if she ever get caught, but the man placed a hand on her back and led her through the crowd. He led her to a table with a few other males and an intense crowd, eyes darting around as cards and dice were scattered everywhere. A chandelier swayed overhead while the floor beneath her seemed to rumble with the swarms of people. He urged her to sit, his other hand on her shoulder.

"Let's wait for Theo together," he suggested, an underlying threat just beneath the surface, daring her to object.

She does.

"I want to leave," she told him, suddenly very aware of his close proximity and the warm hand burning a hole into her back.

A devious smirk slowly danced along his lips.

"Princess, the game has just started," he said, almost menacingly. "Since you're here, you might as well just stay and enjoy the show."

She attempted to stand up, until she felt a different hand clamp on her shoulder and push her back into her seat. She looked behind to see a tall man with a built figure. She swallowed, reluctantly turning back around.

"It's a lot more fun than you think," Draco chuckled. He reached to boldly tuck a stray curl behind her ear, to which she pushed his arm away from her.

Unbothered by her rejection, his fingers reached into the pockets of his trousers, emerging with a wad of cash tied neatly together with a band. He whipped the band off and tossed the cash into the center of the table, the other males cheering. His eyes narrowed as he reached for the cards, his gaze so stern that she became slightly afraid of his suddenly dark countenance.

Cash was thrown around as people made bets, and she's almost disgusted at how they treat money as if it's nothing.

"Going all in?" another male asked Draco.

"Always," Draco smiled.

Cards slid across the table as dice orchestrated the murmurs of the spectators around the table. Eventually, glasses were handed around, and Draco was pouring her wine.

"You know, I'm probably the richest at this table," Draco boasted. His fingers reached into his pocket once more, emerging with another roll of bills. He offered them to her, and her face flushed with anger, and she smacked his hand away, the dollars rolling onto the table.

"Why are you doing this?" she asked. "I don't want anything from you."

His eyes met Hermione's with a determination that scared her.

"I'm interested in you," Draco said quite honestly, and she wasn't sure whether it was because of his gruff personality or the wine. "And Theo's not your boyfriend which means you're free."

"I don't like people like you," she told him honestly.

"Ouch," he winced, before saying, "You know what? Let's do this. I'm a master of bets. If I roll a six with both dice, you have to do what I ask you. If not, we'll never see each other again."

The probability of him doing it is low, so she almost immediately agreed, but she couldn't ignore the small voice telling her to avoid this man once and for all, before it was too late. He's dangerous. She didn't know how she possibly know that, but she just does.

He clasped his hands around the dice, shaking them lightly before tossing them so nonchalantly with a slight flick of the wrist. The pattering of the dice as they scrambled across the table echoed with the rapid pounding of her heart, and she could feel her lungs constrict as she read the numbers.

Two sixes.

"Jackpot," Draco grinned wickedly.

Though apprehension knots her eyebrows together, there is a part of Hermione that is slightly relieved he has rolled two sixes.

"You said you would do what I ask you," he said.

"What do you want?" she hesitantly asked.

It was a stupid question, really. They both know exactly what he wants.

He took a sip of wine before clasping his hands together. His polished shoes are propped on the table now, as he began, "I know about your father's business."

She suddenly felt a bit defensive, hands clasped tightly around the glass of wine.

"I did my research on you," he smiled. "And it seems you're going through a bit of trouble."

Hermione's father once owned a dental corporation, she had lived in moderate wealth, wealth others would envy, but not wealth to the degree that she could step over dollar bills like a carpet and toss them out of her window whenever she felt like it. However, it had not been that long ago that the business had gone bankrupt, and she struggled with living expenses and tuition.

"I have what you need…," Draco said. "…but you need to give me what I want."

He paused in silence, as if waiting for her to ask.

"What do you want?" she gulped.

"You."


Let me know what you think!