ella

he soft clinking of glass ceased, leaving

ck to me. He stood at the edge of the bed, a towering shadow of autho

r about your du

"you will call me Isabella. Not 'wife,' not 'madam.' Second, you will sit down an

. No one gave the Don of Chicago orders. But after a tense standoff, he moved to the

ded with every luxury and the absolute protection of the Russo family. In return, you will remain

on. "Perfectly. A pure transaction. Which means you will also strictly h

nding deal he had signed to secure the shipping routes-seemed to

The negotiation was over; it was time to consummate the alliance

y and cigars," I murmured, steppin

y. Instead, he let out a low, dark chuckle that vibrated

opped dead in his tracks. I hadn't undressed in a panic. Instead, I was propped against the silk pillo

ustrations, then up to my face. The te

e dropping an octave, thick

tare with a lazy smile. "I thought a man of yo

pinned my wrists above my head. His mouth crashed down on mine, tasting of mint and danger. It wasn't a gentle claiming; it was a primal, possessi

e sharp click of a p

a crisp charcoal suit, his hair perfectly slicked back, looking as untouchable as he had yesterday. H

and leaving absolutely no room for negotiation

e. Without a word, I simply turned my back to him, pulled