ella

of the Prohibition-era distillery. Rusted copper stills loomed

I ordered Mad

, their hands instinctively hovering over

focating scent of old whiskey. As I navigated the decaying floorboards, the fa

irt. My breath caught. He was sculpted like a ruthless Roman deity, his back rippling with lean, predatory muscle. Hea

itten)?" he drawled, his tone la

heer, suffocating dominance radiating from him felt entirely wrong for a grunt.

sing yourself in a graveyard like

lips. "I'm hard to kill. What's a woman

dicinal mold," I lied smoothly, my g

his heavy boots was a tarnished cigar box stamped with a fa

anger in the room. "Seems I'm in the wrong win

ery movement, burning with a sudden, inte

nto the daylight, I swore I heard him snap his fingers, followed by a

go's Gold Coast. I had secured a preliminary deal with the Ghost, but the victory felt heavy as I looked down

lato shop, my heart ached. I ordered the convoy to s

cone. For a second, he looked like a regular four-year-old, untouched

ispered, his vo

e across the bustling stre

ue was my ex-husband, Damien Valenti. He wasn't looking at us. His

around Seraphina's throat. She tilted her head up, her eyes shining with adoration. Damien smiled-a soft, genuine smil

a public declaration of their

ical power or family alliances anymore. It was the absolute erasure of

raw, agonizing pain in my chest didn't break me; it crystallized. I stared at the happy couple acro