BOUND TO THE BLOOD KING
His eyes searched hers, war colliding with something softer, something rare.
He wanted to lock her away. He wanted to burn the world. But he also knew she was right.
Finally, with a voice like broken glass, he whispered, “You’ll be the death of me.”
“Or the making of you,” she said.
The plan was reckless, dangerous and perfect.
A high-profile charity gala hosted by one of New York’s elite families, a neutral ground where every Don would have eyes, ears, and cameras trained on them.
Bianca would walk in at Matteo’s side, wearing red, the Romano color of vengeance. Red said she was no longer a captive bride, but a queen who dared enemies to touch her.
Bab Populer