The Wrong Vow: Bred by the Mafia Twins
The sudden, aggressive rattle of my bedroom door handle caused my entire body to jump, my heart leaping into my throat.
I cleared my throat, forcing my vocal cords to drop to a perfectly steady, unbothered register.
"Identify yourself," I called out.
"It is Roman," the deep, gravelly voice answered through the thick oak panel.
I disengaged the deadbolt, stepping backward as Roman pushed the door open. He was fully armored in his heavy, dark wool trench coat, emitting a strong olfactory signature of fresh rain and sharp cedarwood.
"I am initiating my deployment to Baltimore," Roman stated, his gunmetal eyes executing a rapid visual sweep of my face. "Dante is elevating the estate to maximum a
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