The Mafia's desire

o a mirror sheen. The Romano estate was less a house and more a kingdom-sprawling acres of manicured

utch she carried. She felt out of place already, her emerald dress far too si

ered, looping her arm through S

suits lining the walls weren't ordinary men. Their sharp gazes missed nothing

ring whispered about across New York, where politicians, businessmen, and

no idea why she

floor. Waiters glided between guests with trays of champagne, their movements as

med wealth and power-oil paintings in gilded frames, statues imported from Europ

. Broad-shouldered, watchful, dangerous. Even in tailored tux

drew her attention

to bend unconsciously around him, leaving space as if proximity alone was a risk. His dark suit was cut to

fted, sweeping over the r

nd it felt like a jolt of electricity ran down her spine. He looke

?" she whisp

ed. "Adrian Romano," she said sof

was rumored to be ruthless, merciless, the future king of New York's underworld.

erest in the musicians on stage. Don't sta

late. She alrea

the bar. "Come on, one

ould feel his presence like a shadow pressing against her skin. She tried to focus on Ma

sideways again, Adr

chased immediately by relief. Better this way.

ht was only

oom, Adrian Romano hadn't ta