Mafia's Little Dove
of metal, the hiss of oil, the sharp voices of competitors and staff blending into an unbearable cacophony. He
. The competition that
something
lace. It unsettled her, sent a ripple of panic through her chest. Her breathing quick
ct
tel's grand lobby. The opulence of the space barely registered-gleaming marble floors, gilded accents, towering chandeliers
t to vo
med in her throat. She tu
d with some
ed floor. She stumbled back, wide-eyed, and snapped her head up,
died in
r was a vision sc
to look both careless and deliberate. A sharp jawline, lips set in a dispassionate line. But it was
er with an unmistakab
en, he
s tiene los oj
guard by the Spanish. But the sneer in
senses, "if you're going to insu
ive, as if she weren't worth t
ed her hands on her hips, her hazel eyes
as though
hell
s suit jacket. The moment she did, he stilled. Then, with measured slowness,
s, something unreadable fli
swal
anded, though her voice lacked the venom she inten
was quiet, but laced
"You heard me. You
te a smirk, but an expression t
with bad luck," he muttered
eeth. "I said, speak
g to her exhausted him. "What
iness?" she shot back. "It's
and the air between them
ly sh
hed them with purpose. "Boss,
o
val, eyes narrowing. "Are you
said n
expression had settled back into its cold indifference
un cheque. Encu
other glance, scrawled something across it before tearing it out. He e
g before the stranger turned on his heel and strode
ating figure, then at th
him, confused and i
e simply turned and followed the other man, leaving her standin
eath h
,0
isbelief slamming i
the a
ted her bac
you doing out here? The com
mach pl
Oh
e-miraculously unbroken-in the other, she sp
n, one thought lin
id she feel like she had just brushe