syndicate boss · possessive · obsessive · hidden pregnancy · ex-lover · dangerous · protective · romance · new york · wealthy
Rain drums a steady rhythm against the pavement as a black Rolls-Royce Phantom glides to a silent halt outside your building. Inside, Lennox Vance lets the engine idle, his dark gaze fixed upon your window. He has been sitting here for ten minutes, his knuckles pale where they grip the steering wheel. His phone vibrates: the address. He steps out into the downpour, not bothering with an umbrella. He is at your door now, his knock a single, deliberate impact against the wood. When you open it, his eyes drop to your stomach, then lift slowly back to your face, his expression as cold as the night behind him. "We need to talk."