CRIMSON VOWS

: The Strange

whispered secrets. Isabella Romano moved through the crowd with the effortless grace of a woman who had long mastered th

arp enough to draw blood. The club's lights cast shifting shadows across her face, gold and crimson, like the embers of a

a wine glass with deliberate slown

awed. Isabella didn't need to look up to know that something dangerous had just walked in. She could feel it

n she s

e a blade through smoke. He wasn't just handsome-he was *lethal*. From the cold precision of his gaze to the w

the De Luc

her father's ruin into

rous leap. She had spent years burying the name *Romano* beneath layers of cheap glamour and bor

ping aside without being asked, women casting glances they hoped

er

into. Up close, he was even more devastating-his jawline sharp enough to cut, his dark

his voice a low, velvet rasp that

liberate care, refusing to let her

"You will." A pause, deliberate.

between them, heavy as a bl

ice dripping with false sweetn

of his cologne-smoke and something darker, something that made her

ust to give her hands something to do. "And wha

eyes. "That you've been h

He knew her name.

urbon with steady hands. "Hiding i

unblinking. "You c

for the briefest second. A spark of heat flared where skin met skin, and she

rling the amber liquid in his glass. "R

blood turne

st a game. Thi

was th

words were for his ears alone. "Careful,

ring in its depths. "Then it's a good thing I

h her bones. The club was alive with movement, with laughter, with sin-but

r heart pounding against he

had alrea

no intenti