Blood and Roses

la Bellavista – Two D

here vines hung lazily from carved archways. Beyond the balustrade,

air was perfumed wit

dancing shadows along her bare curves. Her hair fanned out like ink spilled across the pillows. S

le, his black pants hanging low on his hips. In his eyes b

g?" she whisp

never

er mouth with a growl. She arched into him, every inch of her humming with need. They moved tog

d into Damien's chest

could feel like t

spent years building empires and collecting enemies

im. "Do you think

esit

t with the name I carry. But for tonight-it is. For tonigh

and let his heartbea

ates of the villa, a blac

ng. Wa

g – 9:

dining room, bathing the breakfast table in light. Fresh figs, espre

ant. She wore Damien's shirt-again-a

sipping her coffee,

ned. "Give

the baby comes. It's quiet. Beau

ong," Damien countered, though he didn'

eyes. "Always t

tor," he said, sett

glass pane behind them crac

tantly, stepping

her

ed in the wine decan

rabbing Isla and diving b

across the v

ed to sweep the gr

s someone paid them o

d activated a hidden transmitt

compromised. Engage lockdown protocol.

him. "Who the hell

his jaw. "I

rivate Jet Ha

footage on a sleek laptop. A smile

en. So perfec

te into a crystal a

lo," he murmured. "And tha

tes Later –

and, where Damien's European headquarters were located. Isla sa

from her, starin

w him?"

of Varro Holdings. Old money. Roman root

t does h

the job. He went underground five years ago, after I dismantled his smug

low. "Is he wor

abid dog. Lucien is a wolf who wears

the edge of her seat.

forward. "We

's Private Comp

ric gates and a private armed staff. Inside, the operations

ed back to Lucien's fake Swiss firms. He's rebuilding his network under different n

movement. I want his suppliers, his allies, his hired guns.

Damien, arms cross

d. "You stay

m not going to be the pregnant wife l

ned hi

I know the risks. I'

I know exactly what you're made of. Fir

intly. "Then

her hand

ys Later

the coast. They wore designer disguises-her in a crimson gown with a Venetian

rumored t

and criminals, all sipping champagne

. "Target spotted. Bal

is cufflink. "Press this

his hand. "

, Mrs. B

ed into t

of the ballroom, watching

scent

tes and

face to face with a man who l

en V

– Mome

he night air, pistol

was no o

e, sealed with red wa

photogra

a

r bury her. Y