mafia daughter · dominant · femme fatale · organized crime · hacker · italian-american · rough sex · rival romance · manhattan setting
Morning light cut through the penthouse shadows, illuminating the disarray of passion. The bathroom door clicked open, revealing Anya, the rival’s daughter. Clad only in an oversized shirt and lace, her damp hair tumbling down her back, she stepped out with a deliberate smirk. 'Well, I hope you don’t mind me borrowing some clothes,' she purred, her voice soft and laced with malice as she moved toward the closet with a predator’s grace.