LOGINEve Larson, all fire and defiance, is the ransom for her father’s life. When she’s forced into marriage with Dominik Grimaldi, a ruthless mafia don twice her age, he makes his terms clear. Total obedience, unwavering fidelity, and an heir within one year. Trapped in his opulent prison, Eve fights him with every breath, but Dominik is a master of the long game. Her defiance is his ultimate aphrodisiac, and he’s determined to shatter her resistance. He’ll use agonizing denial, strategic pleasure, and ruthless psychological warfare to reprogram her, body and soul. He doesn't just want her submission, he wants her addicted to him. But Dominik didn't just capture a pawn, he caged a queen. As their scorching battle of wills explodes from the bedroom into his vast empire, Eve's hatred sharpens into a weapon. She masters his games, challenges his control, and issues a deadly ultimatum that threatens to burn his world to the ground. The line between hate and obsession blurs into a feral, addictive passion. Will she be the ruin of his empire, or will she rise to rule it by his side?
View MoreEveTwo years is a substantial amount of time in the underworld. It is more than enough time for blood to wash away from concrete floors, for terrified whispers to evolve into established legends, and for a new, absolute hierarchy to cement itself directly into the bedrock of New York City.The Grimaldi empire no longer just functions, it thrives with a flawless, terrifying efficiency.Sitting behind the massive mahogany desk in the main study, a stack of digitized ledgers glows brightly on the sleek laptop resting in front of me. The afternoon sunlight streaming through the bulletproof glass catches the heavy diamond band on my left hand as my fingers fly across the keyboard.Every account is perfectly balanced. The routing numbers are secure, shielded behind a labyrinth of encrypted firewalls Vincent custom-built to be entirely impenetrable.We run the city without opposition. The brutal, systematic erasure of the traitors two years ago sent a shockwave through the Commission that
DominikMorning sunlight spills across the duvet, illuminating the absolute center of my universe.Leaning against the doorframe of the master bathroom, a towel slung low around my waist, the sight in front of me physically halts the breath in my lungs. It’s been three days since the chaos in the medical wing. Three days since the Grimaldi heir entered the world screaming his absolute defiance.Eve sits propped against the pillows, her dark hair falling in soft, messy waves over her shoulders. The silk strap of her nightgown is pushed down, exposing the pale, heavy curve of her breast.Cradled in her arms is our son.He’s latched onto her, feeding with a rhythmic, greedy intensity that is entirely familiar. Tiny, perfect fingers curl against her pale skin, his dark blue eyes closed in absolute contentment.Watching my wife nurture the life we created is a transcendent experience. The ruthless Donna who carved a traitor apart without blinking, is currently glowing with a soft, fierce
EveAnother contraction rips through my lower abdomen, dragging a jagged, white-hot edge across every nerve ending in my body.The pain isn’t a dull, manageable ache. It’s a localized, molten vise clamping down on my spine, twisting with a violent and mechanical cruelty. My fingers lock around the metal bedrail, my knuckles turning bone-white as the urge to completely tear the fixture out of the wall washes over me."Breathe, Eve. You’re doing beautifully."The deep, rumbling voice coming from my left side only serves to pour high-octane fuel onto the absolute inferno of my rage.Snapping my head to the side, my hair plastered to my forehead with sweat, a lethal glare is directed squarely at the man holding my other hand. Dominik sits on a low stool next to the bed. He looks entirely too calm, his blue eyes shining with a mixture of intense focus and infuriating, boundless pride.He’s wearing a simple black long-sleeve t-shirt, the sleeves pushed up to reveal his scarred forearms, l
DominikMorning sunlight spills through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the master suite, casting a warm, golden glow across the floor.Sitting on the edge of the mattress, a heavy crystal tumbler of water dangling loosely from my fingers, my entire focus is anchored to the woman standing in front of the vanity mirror.Eve is naked, casually massaging a rich, thick cocoa butter cream into her skin.Seven months into the pregnancy, her body has completely transformed. The subtle, athletic curves she possessed when she first walked into my life have softened and expanded into something utterly magnificent. Her breasts are heavy and full, the areolas darkened, the nipples constantly peaking with tight sensitivity. Her hips have widened, and her thighs are thicker, perfectly framing the taut, beautiful swell of her stomach.She is a living, breathing goddess.The ruthless, terrifying Donna who dismantled a mafia rebellion and tortured a traitor to death without blinking is currently hum
EveThe air in the penthouse has become too thin to breathe.It’s not a lack of oxygen. The filtration system that hums incessantly in the background ensures the air is scrubbed, purified, and perfectly climate-controlled. It’s the weight of the silence. We’re safe, but we’re suffocating."Get dre
DominikI’m back in the war room at the penthouse. The sun is threatening to rise over the East River, turning the sky a bruised purple, but the blackout shutters are still down. Time doesn't exist in here. "Coffee," I say.It’s not a request.A new guard places a cup on the desk next to my hand.
DominikThe lead comes in at three in the morning.The city is asleep, but the penthouse of the Tower is humming with the quiet, frantic energy of a war room.Vincent Wong stands by the main monitor, his face bathed in the blue light of a facial recognition scan. He looks like he hasn't slept in a
EveThe heavy oak door of our bedroom clicks shut, sealing the violence of the world outside.Dominik doesn't move toward the bed immediately. He simply backs me against the door, his hands coming up to frame my face. His thumbs sweep over my cheekbones, his eyes burning with a heat that has nothi
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