ANMELDEN"I hope you’re hungry, Luca. Because in this dress, I’m the only thing on the menu you can't afford." In the neon-soaked towers of the Voss Crime Syndicate, power is the only currency—and Valeria Devereux is bankrupt. Stripped of her legacy and forced into a demeaning maid’s uniform to serve the very elites who destroyed her family, Valeria is a glitch in a world of billionaire kings and mafia monsters. But behind her submissive gaze lies a lethal mind and a hidden high-tech edge. When Alessandro “Zane” Moretti, the cold-blooded heir to the Moretti Empire, arrives to finalize a merger, he doesn't see a servant. He sees a weapon. He’s the man who could burn her world down—or set her body on fire. In a high-stakes game of enemies-to-lovers and dark obsession, Valeria must choose: stay a pawn in the Voss's cruel games, or surrender to the dangerous billionaire who wants to own her soul. Tags: #MafiaRomance #Billionaire #DarkRomance #EnemiesToLovers #HighTechCrime #ForcedProximity #Vengeance
Mehr anzeigenThe glass walls of the Moretti Command Center overlooked the Kingdom of Leonas, a sprawling grid of neon and steel that breathed at my command. But inside my own skull, the rhythm was off.A low-frequency hum vibrated in my marrow—the "Nero" identity, my core instinct, was scratching at the door again. It was becoming harder to keep the machine separate from the man."Hand over the credentials, Russo," I said, my voice grating like stones on metal. "You’re looking far too eager to attend a high-society funeral for common sense."Dom didn't flinch. He stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows, the reddish-brown of his hair caught in the city’s glow as he tapped the Voss invitation against his palm. "Am I that transparent, Zane? Or are you just getting better at reading the board?""You're predictable," I countered, leaning back. The leather of my chair creaked—a human sound in a room full of digital silence. "You’re obsessed with finding a permanent partner. You think a 'match' is the cure
The formal dining room was a cathedral of glass and gold, illuminated by a chandelier that cost more than a mid-sized apartment. The air was thick with the smell of seared wagyu and the underlying tension of a board meeting.Isabella had meant for this to be my final humiliation. The uniform she’d forced me into was a mockery—a scrap of black lace and silk that was less a garment and more a neon sign of my "unranked" status. My back burned where the whip marks pulled against the delicate fabric, a secret agony I kept hidden behind a mask of glass.I moved toward the head of the table, the wine decanter heavy in my hand. Luca, a high-ranking Beta for the Syndicate, was mid-sentence when I leaned into his personal space."I hope the vintage has improved since the last quarter, Luca," I murmured.I leaned just far enough. The lace stretched, revealing the dark bruises on my arms that I hadn't quite managed to cover. Luca’s whiskey went down the wrong way. He coughed, his glass rattling v
"Oh, I almost forgot. Shame, really. I was starting to enjoy the view.""Cut the crap, Mikhail. You’re lucky I’m still standing. What is this garbage?""Don't look at me, princess. This came straight from Isabella Voss. She said since you want to act like a common street walker, you might as well dress like the help. It’s your new uniform for tonight’s board meeting.""I’m a lead analyst for the Voss Syndicate's tech division. I don't wear polyester lace and micro-skirts. This has to be a joke.""The only joke is thinking you have a choice, Valeria. Put it on, or stay as you are. Viktor and I certainly won't complain if you choose the latter. You’ve got a body that was made to be looked at, glitch or not.""You’re a sick, perverted bastard, Mikhail. Don't think I’ll forget that comment when the power dynamic shifts.""Stomp all you want. Just make sure you’re decent before the Morettis arrive. The Boss doesn't want his 'charity case' looking like she’s been living in a dungeon, even i
Viktor’s howl of pain was short-lived. A second later, Mikhail’s fist collided with my solar plexus. The world didn't go black; it went white. My lungs seized, and I hung from the ceiling-mounted chains like a broken marionette, swaying in a sickening arc.Seraphina didn't flinch at the violence. She stood by the security panel, her silhouette sharp against the flickering fluorescent lights. "Strip her," she commanded. Her voice had lost its melodic lilt; it was now as clinical as a coroner’s. "I want to see exactly how much of a 'Devereux' is left when she’s exposed."I didn't give them a scream. Not when Viktor’s tactical rings snagged and shredded my blazer, nor when the silk of my camisole was torn away. I locked my jaw, staring directly into Seraphina’s hollow blue eyes. My silence was the only weapon I had left—a refusal to acknowledge her power.It drove her into a frenzy.The first strike of the weighted leather cord didn't just hurt; it felt like a line of liquid fire being d






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