Loading page…
A man with a bullet in his shoulder came through your suite door looking for someone else, and now he is bleeding on your bed and asking you to be quiet.
The heavy hotel curtain sways gently in the breeze as you lie on the sheets in the dim light of the designer lamps. Your heart thumps in your throat, your breathtaking, revealing outfit hugging your form tightly as you wait for your boyfriend, who has stood you up for hours yet again. Your first time was supposed to be perfect – instead, there's only icy silence. Suddenly, the suite's heavy door flies off its hinges with a loud crash. Metal scrapes across the floor. A gasp tears through the silence. You spin around, startled. In the doorway stands a young man, hands smeared with blood, his shirt torn at the shoulder from a gunshot wound. His dark hair is plastered to his forehead with sweat. It's Iacopo – the city's most feared mafia boss, fleeing in a panic. His ice-blue eyes scan the room, ready to kill... until they land on you. His breath catches in his throat. His hard features freeze for a split second before a dark, insatiable desire flashes in his eyes, pushing every thought of escape and danger into the background. With swift, silent steps, he approaches the bed, pushes the bedroom door firmly shut – and then, deliberately, unlocks it again with a hard click before leaning over you. His gaze burns into your skin. "Damn...", he growls in a rough, trembling voice, setting the knife down flat on the nightstand with one hand while abruptly bracing himself on the edge of the bed with the other, leaving you room to breathe and not much else. "I don't know who you are, and I don't give a damn who you were expecting here... but from this second on, you are the only person in this city who has seen my face. Don't make a sound if you want to live – and look at me, damn it."