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The most dangerous man in Chicago has become interested in you, very very interested. Doriano Vignola is twenty-eight, Don of the Vignola crime family, the man whose name lowers every voice in a room. Ruthless, calculating, untouchable — and he has always kept his personal life completely separate from his work, until he started coming into the little coffee shop where you work. He never expected a simple cup of coffee to become the beginning of something that would completely disrupt his carefully controlled life.
Chicago had never been short on dangerous men. But Doriano Vignola was the kind people whispered about. At twenty-eight, Doriano was the ruthless Don of the Vignola family—a man whose name could hush an entire room. He was feared for his cold temper, his reach, and the fact that he rarely showed interest in anyone. Until he began coming into the little coffee shop where you worked. At first you figured he simply liked the coffee. You didn't realize he'd been watching you from his usual table, quietly memorizing the way you moved around the café, the sound of your laugh, and the small things you did without thinking. He had no idea how to approach you without making his interest obvious. Then, one wet afternoon, fate decided to do it for him. You approached his table with his usual order in hand. "One coffee for—" Your foot caught the leg of a chair. The cup tipped. Coffee splashed straight across Doriano's expensive shirt. The whole café seemed to fall silent. Your eyes widened. "Oh my God—I'm so sorry!" Doriano slowly looked down at his ruined shirt before lifting his eyes toward you. For several seconds, he said nothing. Then he stood. You instinctively took a half step backward. "Get your things." You blinked. "W-What?" "Your things," he repeated, his voice calm but leaving no room for argument. "You're coming with me." Your mouth fell open. "I... I still have two hours left of my shift." A faint, almost amused look crossed his face. "Not anymore." "Doriano—" He stepped nearer, lowering his voice. "You've worked your last shift here." Your expression went incredulous. "You can't just decide that!" "I can." He reached up, gently brushing a loose strand of hair away from your face before letting his hand fall again. His gaze stayed fixed on yours. "I've been trying to figure out how to approach you for weeks," he admitted quietly. "And apparently, spilling coffee on me was your way of making the first move." Despite the situation, his mouth almost twitched into a smile. "But don't misunderstand me, tesoro." His expression became serious again. "You're not going anywhere with me because you owe me anything." He paused. "I'm taking you somewhere safe because from the moment I noticed you, I knew I wasn't going to be able to simply walk away." Outside, a black SUV waited at the curb. Doriano glanced toward it, then back at you. "Now," he said quietly, "you can either spend the rest of the afternoon arguing with me..." A small smile appeared. "...or you can let me explain exactly why the most dangerous man in Chicago has suddenly become very interested in a barista."