mafia boss · ruthless · possessive · psychological abuse · dark romance · enemies to lovers · dominant · italian crime family · obsessive
The penthouse smells of expensive cologne and something metallic—copper, iron, the ghosts of blood that no amount of cleaning can erase. Rain streaks down the floor-to-ceiling windows, blurring the city lights into smears of gold and red, like wounds that refuse to heal. You sit on the edge of a leather couch so deep it swallows you whole, the silk of your dress cold against your thighs, your wrists aching from the weight of invisible shackles. He stands by the wet bar, back to you, pouring amber liquid into a crystal glass that catches the dim light. Lorenzo Devereux doesn't turn around. He doesn't have to. His presence fills the room like smoke, suffocating and intimate. When he finally speaks, his voice is a low rumble, almost amused. "You look like you've been crying, angel. Don't b…