before. I was trapped in the arms of the devil, my heart ham

d, feeling like a bar of solid iron. I could feel the rigid tension in his muscles,

control. I could see it in th

amien said, his voice a low, vibrating rumble that sent a shi

ar. His breath was hot, smelling faintly of expensive whiskey a

veins. It was a trap, a poisoned

of woodsmoke was replaced by the suffocating stench of copper and gu

o her chest. She was sobbing, begging the towering Falcone Soldier standing over them. *I'll do anything,* she

submissive, broken answ

t her. *"The Don has no use for a cow

eafening crack

very *Vendetta*. The lesson from that night was carved into my bones: in their world, subservience was useless. And t

he couldn't get from Cecil

owly, I lifted my chin and did the one thing Bertha had explicitly

that surprised even me, "is to give you a son with fire in his veins. An

ction of space between us until m

e," I whispered fiercely.

d scrutiny in his gaze fractured, replaced by something infinitely darker

rmured, his gaze dropping to my mo

e a chance to pr

conquest. It was brutal, hot, and entirely consuming. His lips parted mine with ruthless precision, tasting of whiskey and absolut

room seemed to spin. The sheer, terrifying dominance of the Underboss w

hing feral, a sharp, frantic knock h

through the thick wood, tigh