Mafia King’s Deadly Alliance (The Crimson Empire #19)

He put a jacket around my shoulders and asked me to stay for one hour. Then someone sent a photo of my coffee, my lipstick, my ring—and three words: We need to talk.

Federico De Santis. Storm?gray eyes. Scar like a punctuation at his brow.

Velvet and gravel when he speaks. He catalogues me the way I catalogue clauses—fast, precise, without mercy.He steadies glasses, steadies my spine, then claims the parts of me I didn’t know I would give away.He’s infuriating. He’s infuriated. He’s the only man who makes me forget my training.

We barter in the dark. A jacket, an opera ticket, an espresso with his thumbprint on the rim.A power outage, a flashlight, his hand at the small of my back.One hour becomes a morning. He slides a ring into my palm.I plant an olive tree on his terrace. Then pictures show up.A photograph of our terrace. A close?up of the ring.An old name I’d buried appears like an accusation.

If I let him love me, my enemies will use it. If I refuse him, I lose the man who chose me in the dark. He promises he will choose me—everywhere. Can I risk everything for a man who keeps secrets and makes me feel like home?