MasukTwo lives. One obsession.By day, she's a street thief with killer curves and a hidden hunger. By night, she sells her body to the highest bidder.By day, he's a billionaire CEO closing deals. By night, he's the masked mafia king who rules the shadows.She stole his black card. He stole her freedom.But years ago, behind masks in a dark room, their bodies already knew each other scent, scar, birthmark. Now the chase is on. And when the masks fall... neither will escape.
Lihat lebih banyakIsabella RossiThe guest suite door closed behind Mateo with a soft click that felt louder than a gunshot.
Isabella RossiThe penthouse was too quiet after Alessandro left.I stood in the living room for a long moment after the elevator doors closed behind him, glass of red still in my hand. The city lights glittered through the floor to ceiling windows, indifferent. I swirled the wine, watched the legs run down the inside of the glass. My pulse was already up but not from the alcohol.From what i know I had twenty, maybe thirty minutes before he came back.I set the glass down and Walked to the hallway that led to the private wing. The door to the guest suite was cracked open. Light spilled out, warm, low.I pushed it wider.Mateo was inside.My sexy personal bodyguard he is six foot three and built like a wall with dark hair cropped short, jaw sharp enough to cut glass. Tattoos crept up his neck from under the collar of his black shirt. He’d been assigned to me two years ago after a close call with one of Enzo’s men. Alessandro’s orders “Keep her safe. No exceptions.”Mateo never left my sid
Alessandro RossiThe sun set like it was bleeding out over the Hudson red streaks fading to black. I watched from the penthouse window, tie loose around my neck, scotch untouched on the desk. Day shift was over. Rossi Enterprises had closed deals, moved stocks, built walls of legitimacy that no one could see through. But night? Night was when the real work began.Isabella waited in the living room when I came out. She was nursing a glass of red, legs crossed on the leather couch, her dark hair pinned back like she was still in boardroom mode. My sister three years younger, sharper than me in some ways, softer in others. The only family I had left after our father's "accident" and our mother's heart giving out from the stress. She'd taken over the legal side of the business cleaning money, handling contracts, keeping the feds at bay."You're going to the warehouse?" she asked, not looking up from her tablet.I adjusted my cufflinks. "Meeting with the Colombians. The shipment's delayed."Sh
Valentina ReyesThe sidewalk kept moving under my feet, but I felt like I was standing still while People brushed past in suits ,on phones, tourists with cameras, and a delivery guy on a bike yelling at someone to move. I walked because stopping felt worse. The emerald dress swished against my thighs with every step, the fabric soft and mocking. It had felt like power ten minutes ago. Now it just felt like a costume.My hand was still shaking when I shoved the burner back into my purse. The coffee cup was crushed in my fist, cold dregs dripping onto my fingers. I tossed it into the next trash can without looking.The blue elephant stayed in my head. Big ears. Tiny trunk. Black button eyes. Smiling like it knew nothing about the world.I swallowed hard. Kept walking.The ache in my chest didn’t fade. It spread slow, heavy, familiar. I’d learned to carry it years ago, like an extra heartbeat. But today it hurt sharper. Louder. Like the dress, the hotel, the card had cracked something open t
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