ella

he phantom sensation of Damien Maddox's grip still burning on my arm. My mind was a chaotic storm of fear and confusion, b

rd Preston. It was late, but in

but stern. He didn't ask if I was okay. He

it. "Mr. Maddox... he dragged me out of Vesuvio tonight. He humiliated me. Wher

ening into a scowl. "I heard about the incident. Jovani Langley

me like a physical blow. "I didn

voice ice-cold. "Do you think you are there for a vacation

my sa

please your husband and his family. If Damien Maddox has to discipline you, it i

een wen

ncy that had already been spent. Tears pricked my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. I opened my mes

st message, my

ed to

. And as the hours bled

uble doors of the Don's office, clutching a folder containing the PR strategy for

nt

and dark wood, smelling of espresso and danger. Damien sat behind his massive ebony de

tone strictly professional. "The

dismissively without lifting his ey

nadvertently drifted to the paper under his hand. The bold, capitalized

N FOR A

l jargon was unmistakable.

was-no one did-but the thought of being discarded by this man, erased as if she never

were now blazing with a predatory intensity. He slammed his

he snarled, his voice dro

my folder to my chest.

air. "And if you value your position-if you value yo

ribs like a trapped bird. I had seen the beast's

partment, trying to steady my shaking

re. He was Damien's shadow, a man who moved with the silent lethality of

ropped a seating chart onto my desk. "The Don expects a flawless

r on a specific name on the

he said, and th

roat. Katerina Webb, the actress. The woman

document on Damien's des

tement. But if I seated her at the head table, it would be a public slap in

ice that could cost me my job, or worse. I picked up my pen, my hand hovering over the

en if her husband wouldn't. I had no idea that by t