Novels by Vivian Jude

“Why are you always so close to the Don’s son?”Dominic froze at the sound of Marco’s voice. He was about to open his car when he saw the capo coming out just from behind his car and stood right beside him, one ankle crossed over the other like a man with all the time in the world. The faint glow of his cigarette lit Marco’s rough face, smoke spreading lazily into the night air. His eyes, sharp and calculating, and fixed directly on him.For a split second, Dominic’s pulse quickened. He adjusted his tie slowly, forcing his expression into the calm mask of a professional lawyer. “Marco,” he said evenly, unlocking his car. “I wasn’t aware I had to explain my every movement to you.” Or are you now my body guard?Marco leaned off the car, flinging his cigarette to the ground. He stepped closer, too close, the smell of smoke and leather heavy between them. “Maybe not,” Marco said, his voice low, suspicious. “But I’ve been observing. The way you and Matteo move when you talk. The way you lo

A foot crossed the threshold.For a split second, the figure — a face, a gaze — seemed the person looked directly at them. Matteo felt the weight of that gaze as if it were a physical hand settling on his shoulder.They freezed like the world’s air itself seemed to wait. Then the footsteps stopped. Breath inhaled. The office was so quiet like a graveyard.Matteo pressed his forehead to Dominic’s and whispered, scarcely a sound but everything, “What if we’ve been caught?—” Dominic’s fingers tightened — not with panic now, but with the small, brutal readiness of a man who would go to any length for the man he loves. “Then we will burn the world down,” he replied with a deep breath.The door moved again, the figure stepping forward. The cliff took its breath, and the moment ended in a stretch of suspended noise: the quiet of a moment before a judgement.The office door creaked wider, spilling in the dim hallway light. Matteo froze. Dominic’s hand, still hovering near his sleeve, dropped

Matteo left his father’s sitting room without saying a word, they clung on his chest with so much weight. He moved upstairs to his room, —on the hallway,large portraits of Romano were arranged, his painted eyes seemed to judge him, past the corridor where men in dark suits stood with dark shades covering their eyes, almost like people who could buy time. Immediately he got to his room,he fell onto the bed the way a man folds a letter he no longer wants to read: careful, slow, as if he had lost himself.Night stared at him through the window. Matteo stared at the ceiling as if it could answer the question his father had thrown like a gunshot: marry a girl he had bought. Marry. The word sounded like broken glasses to him, like a coin dropped into an empty fountain. He replayed memories— Dominic’s soft deep voice, the particular curl of Dominic’s mouth when he laughed, the way Dominic’s hands brushed his body and how it made him wet his underwear. A warmth spread across his body, then be

“Oh Fuck!” Dominic’s lips gasped for breath, his voice low, rough, aching, his breath racing. His dark eyes always showed the kind of devotion Matteo never saw in any other person—not even in his family, not in his father’s calculating looks, not even in himself. Only here, only in Dominic’s arms, that Matteo could feel like someone really loves him.Their damp bodies clung to the bed sheet, the heat of the moment doing nothing to cool the fire burning between them. Matteo Romano’s body pinned on top of Dominic Cortez’s body, their lips licking each other in a deep kiss as if they were about to devour themselves. Dominic’s hands held on the hard ridges of Matteo’s back tightly, dragging his nails down his broad shoulders before gripping his hips and pulling him deep inside him.Matteo fucked him harder, constantly grinding his waist down against his hole, every movement deliberate, unrelenting. Their breaths became faster than the previous ones, their voice sounded in the room like a