Caged By The Mafia King

: The Dev

was the scent-rich mahogany and leather, deep and masculine. Then came the sensation of silk she

streets. She wasn'

ther than comfort. She noted the towering windows, their sheer curtains barely veiling the outside world. A grand chandelier bathed everything in w

t for

neath her fingers as she twisted it desperately. It didn't budge. Locked. She rattle

tray with untouched food and a glass of water sat beside a delicate porcelain lamp. A fresh set of clothes was drap

ea who they we

into that club, her lungs still burning from the chase. And

ock c

the door swung open. A figure stepped inside, exuding

nzo M

frame. His presence was overwhelming-too sharp, too composed, too in control. But it was his eyes that hel

s, planting her feet.

mooth, velvety with an edge tha

demanded, forcing

ho

ed in her ears

cross his otherwise unreadable expression. "You walked into my

tling into the deepest parts of her where fea

ating. "Tell me, Isabella," he murmure

d to let it show. She knew. But she

n, his voice dropping into something far more dangerous. "Y

ut she forced herself to keep her expre

enough." His smirk d

ut that would be reckless. And if there was one thing Isabella had learned in life, it

expression into something caref

g moment before he turned toward the door

im, locking her in once more, Isa

ould

ter th

: The Dev

was the scent-rich mahogany and leather, deep and masculine. Then came the sensation of silk she

streets. She wasn'

ther than comfort. She noted the towering windows, their sheer curtains barely veiling the outside world. A grand chandelier bathed everything in w

t for

neath her fingers as she twisted it desperately. It didn't budge. Locked. She rattle

tray with untouched food and a glass of water sat beside a delicate porcelain lamp. A fresh set of clothes was drap

ea who they we

into that club, her lungs still burning from the chase. And

ock c

the door swung open. A figure stepped inside, exuding

nzo M

frame. His presence was overwhelming-too sharp, too composed, too in control. But it was his eyes that hel

s, planting her feet.

mooth, velvety with an edge tha

demanded, forcing

ho

ed in her ears

cross his otherwise unreadable expression. "You walked into my

tling into the deepest parts of her where fea

ating. "Tell me, Isabella," he murmure

d to let it show. She knew. But she

n, his voice dropping into something far more dangerous. "Y

ut she forced herself to keep her expre

enough." His smirk d

ut that would be reckless. And if there was one thing Isabella had learned in life, it

expression into something caref

g moment before he turned toward the door

im, locking her in once more, Isa

ould

ter th