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