Bound by the Mafia Lord's Gilded Chains

lan did not wee

neath a sea of black umbrellas, the most dangerous men in Italy stood like statues carved from obsidian. They were he

the wind against his neck or the dampness seeping into his bespoke wool coat. His amber eyes-the color of aged bour

carried over the roar of the rain. "The Commission is watching, Dante. Ricci hasn

ink. "He'll fin

heavy, slow beat. The beat of a predator. As the service concluded, a man stepped forward from the inner circ

searingly hot. It was more than jewelry; it was a shackle. It was the "Gilded Chain" that

os stepped forward,

red, the title tasting li

a shock of silver, offered a smile that didn't reach his predatory eyes. "A heavy burden for such y

story. He didn't offer a handshake. "The empire isn't in my f

y fracture in his Neapolitan poise

behind the wheel of his black Lamborghini Aventador, the engine's growl the only thing keeping him groun

shield into a sheet of distorted glass. Dante pushed the car harder, the needle climbing, seeking a release from the suffocating

a sharp corner near the

h of white darte

red, slamming his

tail fishtailing wildly before the tires finally found purchase. The Lamborghini lurched to a halt

from a sudden, jagged surge of adrenaline. He threw the d

, his voice gravelly with rage as he roun

olio case to her chest as if it were a shield. Her dark hair was plaste

left Dante's lungs as if he'd

storm. They weren't filled with the terrified subservience he was use

ice trembling but clear. "You were the one dr

r, his shadow falling over her, his amber eyes scanning her face. She was ethereally beautiful, a creature of light cau

d, his voice dropping an oct

She stepped around him, her shoulder brushing his arm. The contact felt like a liter

ed toward the sidewalk, her hea

sappeared into the shadows of an arched doorway. He felt a strange, territorial pull in his chest-a sensatio

e weight didn't feel quite as heavy anymore. He had a lead,

thing he wanted. And Dante Mor