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
/1/112789/coverbig.jpg?v=8005b391543e1f594e834a3fc595aa89&imageMogr2/format/webp)