He was the most feared villain in all of new Orleans, ruthless and spiteful but in spite of all that he wasn't happy because he had all the wealth and connection a person could only dream of but was lacking in one area, LOVE She was a bookstore owner, a nerd and good Samaritan. when a stranger break into her house at midnight hurt and injured she has two choices call the cops or help him. Find out which choice she chooses on the mafia wants my heart
Lihat lebih banyakMarco leaned in, his nose brushing against mine, his breath warm and intoxicating. My own breath hitched, my lips parting instinctively.And then—He pulled away.A slow, deliberate retreat, his lips curving into something smug, something wicked.Heat flared in my cheeks as frustration tangled with the ache in my chest.“Are you—” I swallowed, gripping the fabric of my dress. “Are you teasing me?”Marco smirked. “Maybe.”I narrowed my eyes, but before I could retort, he leaned in again, his fingers brushing against my wrist, his voice a low murmur against my ear.“But when I finally take what I want, Mia,” he whispered, “you won’t be questioning anything.”My stomach flipped, my skin burning where he touched me.And just like that, he straightened, composed as ever, like he hadn’t just turned my entire world upside down.I exhaled shakily, my heart still racing as he walked ahead, effo
The moment I stepped out of the car, the cool evening air kissed my skin, sending a slight shiver down my spine. The entrance to the gala was nothing short of breathtaking—golden lights illuminated the grand building, luxury cars lined the driveway, and men in sharp tuxedos escorted women draped in elegance. But none of it compared to the man walking toward me. Marco Valentino. His presence commanded attention, his dark eyes locked onto me with an intensity that made my breath hitch. He looked effortlessly powerful in his tailored suit, the crisp black fabric molding to his frame in a way that was both refined and utterly sinful. A slow smirk tugged at his lips as he reached me, his gaze roaming over my figure in a way that sent warmth pooling in my stomach. “You wear it well,” he murmured, voice smooth as silk. I swallowed, heart racing. “Thank you… for the dress.” His smirk dee
MIA CRUZ Three days. Three days, and I hadn’t seen Marco. I told myself I didn’t care. I told myself I had more important things to focus on—work, my bookstore, my life. But my mind had other plans. Sitting at my desk, I tapped my pen against my notepad, staring blankly at the emails I was supposed to be responding to. The words blurred together, my focus slipping every time I remembered the way his lips had lingered just inches from mine. The way he pulled away like he was testing me, teasing me. The way I had wanted him to stay. I groaned under my breath and squeezed my eyes shut. Get a grip, Mia. “You okay?” I snapped out of my daze, looking up to see my co-worker, Naomi, peering at me from across the desk. She raised a brow, eyes full of suspicion. “Yeah. Fine,” I lied, sitting up straighter and forcing my attention back to my laptop. She smirked
MIA CRUZThe air crackled with tension, heavy and charged, wrapping around us like an unspoken promise. My breath came in uneven gasps, my pulse hammering against my ribs in a frantic rhythm. Marco’s fingers rested lightly on my waist, a touch that felt both possessive and teasing, his lips hovering just inches from mine. Every nerve in my body was aware of him—of his presence, his power, the quiet restraint in his stance. And yet, despite the space he left between us, I could feel it—the unmistakable heat radiating off his skin.His piercing blue eyes locked onto mine, filled with something dark and unreadable. A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, lazy and knowing.“You’re blushing, Mia.”I felt my cheeks burn hotter, my stomach twisting at the teasing edge in his voice.“I—” I started, but words failed me. How the hell was I supposed to respond to that?Marco chuckled, the deep, rich sound rolling over me like warm honey.
The grand foyer stretched before me, a masterpiece of timeless elegance and quiet opulence. The floors were polished marble, smooth and gleaming beneath my feet, reflecting the soft glow of the golden chandelier hanging above. High ceilings made the space feel impossibly vast, and intricate crown moldings framed the room with refined detail.A sweeping staircase curved to the second floor, its railing carved from dark mahogany, polished to perfection. The scent of leather, wood, and something distinctly Marco—masculine and expensive—filled the air.I took a slow breath, trying not to seem too affected by the sheer grandeur surrounding me. This wasn’t just wealth. It was power, woven into every inch of the space.Marco shut the door behind me, the quiet click echoing in the vast room. I felt his presence at my back, close but not touching.“Come on,” he said smoothly, walking ahead. “Let’s go somewhere more comfortable.”I followed him thr
MIA CRUZ The blaring of my alarm jolted me awake, dragging me out of a restless sleep. I groaned, rolling over and slamming the snooze button before burying my face in my pillow. Just five more minutes. Except five minutes turned into ten, and by the time I finally forced myself up, the sun was already peeking through my window, casting a warm glow across my room. Sunday. The realization hit me fully, sending a jolt of awareness through my still-sleepy mind. I was meeting Marco today. At his house. I shook off the nerves creeping in and stretched, rubbing my eyes before dragging myself out of bed. My feet padded across the cool wooden floor as I made my way to the bathroom. A splash of cold water to my face did wonders in shaking off the last remnants of sleep. I brushed my teeth, letting my mind wander as I moved through my morn
MIA CRUZI took a deep breath before stepping out of the storeroom, my hands tightening around the book samples. I had only been in there for a few minutes, but it had been enough to gather myself—or so I thought.The moment I looked up, my stomach did a ridiculous flip.Marco was still there.He leaned casually against one of the bookshelves, arms crossed over his broad chest, watching me with an amused expression. His dark eyes held a knowing glint, like he could see right through me.“You sure took your time,” he mused.I forced a small laugh, shifting the samples in my grip. “Just… making sure I got the right books.”He hummed as if he didn’t believe me but didn’t push. Instead, he straightened, his gaze settling on me in a way that made my skin prickle.“So,” he said smoothly, “since I’m already here, how about we grab a coffee? You must have a lot of questions.”Coffee?I blinked, caught
CHAPTER 8 The scent of old paper and freshly brewed coffee filled the bookstore, wrapping Mia in a familiar comfort. Sunlight streamed through the large glass windows, casting a warm glow over the wooden shelves stacked with stories waiting to be discovered. It was a quiet Saturday morning, the kind she usually cherished. But not today. Today, she was on edge. Her hands trembled slightly as she adjusted a row of hardcovers, pretending to be engrossed in her task. She had been doing this all morning—straightening books, reorganizing displays, making small talk with Chloe—all in an effort to ignore the gnawing unease in her stomach. Because he was coming. Marco Valentino. She swallowed hard, sneaking a glance at the clock hanging above the counter. 10:02 AM. He hadn’t given her a specific time, but she knew he would show up whenever he pleased. That was the kind of man he was.
The conference room door clicked shut behind her, but Mia barely heard it over the pounding of her own heartbeat. The moment the presentation ended, she had slipped out, needing a moment to gather herself. She had done it—delivered her pitch with poise, answered every question with confidence. But none of that mattered. Because the entire time, she had felt his eyes on her. Marco Valentino. The man who now stood at the center of her world in ways she couldn’t understand. The same man who, for the briefest second during the presentation, had looked at her like he knew her—like he was peeling back layers of time, trying to place her in a memory just out of reach. She exhaled sharply, pressing a hand to her chest. It was just business. That was all. Yet, deep down, she knew that was a lie. Mia barely had time to steady her breathing before her boss’s voice rang out behind her. “Miss Cruz.” She turned sharply, her pulse still erratic, to see Mr. Gravitas standing in th
The moment I stepped off the train and into the cool Chicago air, a shiver ran down my spine. The city was alive—too alive. Streetlights flickered in the fading evening light, illuminating the busy sidewalks where businessmen hurried past, laughter spilled from a nearby bar, and the faint scent of roasted chestnuts lingered in the air. Yet, beneath the surface, something felt… off. I pulled my coat tighter around me and shifted my overnight bag higher onto my shoulder. I wasn’t here for sightseeing. I was here because my mother, Emily Cruz, practically forced me to attend a book club event in her place. The thought made me sigh. “Mia, it’s important to keep connections alive,” she had said. “You never know when you’ll need them.” As the owner of Cruz’s Bookstore—one of New Orleans’ oldest independent bookstores—my mother was obsessed with building literary networks. I, on the other hand, had no such ambitions. I just wanted to survive the night and catch my flight home in the m...
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