I am the villain of my own story...
Jilted by my fiance.
A disappointment to my family.
Haunted by my childhood traumas.
I felt so much all my life that I resolved to feeling nothing at all.
Until I met my match.
As the most infamous mafioso of the 21st century, Dante Salvatore was madly passionate, unequivocally bad, and entirely too dangerous to know. He was everything I abhorred, yet I found myself representing him in the biggest criminal trial of the decade.
I was so focused on winning and achieving the success I deserved that I didn't notice the gorgeous black-eyed man's effect on me until it was too late. My icy heart had been held too close to his flame and now I wouldn't let Dante go down without fighting with everything I had in me.
Even if the cost of a new life with him meant the loss of my old life and everything I thought I held dear.
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The bullet shattered the glass, but I felt none of those sharp edges nor the impact of that metal projectile lodging itself in my flesh.
Instead, I gasped because the air compressed from my lungs by the weight of a large, incredibly heavy Italian man caging me against the seat.
I tipped my face up, mouth open, eyes dry and prickling with shock. Dante caught my gaze, his own burning coal black and just as hot.
For an instant, just one, I felt his wrath move through me like a tangible thing, something heady and drugging like the finest whiskey or the best Italian wine.
Then he was yelling, “Cazzo, drive, man! NOW!”
With a squeal of tires, Mr. Janko revved the engine and gunned us forward into the intersection despite the red light.
Another shot was fired from behind us, this time wedging itself with a clunk into the trunk of the car.
Dante curled even tighter around Yara and me, protecting us with his massive frame. Surrounded by his warm citrus and pepper scent, pressed tight to his unyielding chest, I almost felt safe despite the madman shooting at us.
He remained there for a few moments until we were long gone from the scene, racing through the streets like a northeasterly storm.
When he finally pulled away, he checked Yara quickly then turned his eyes to me. One large hand went for my face, and I flinched despite myself.
I’d never seen hands like that, hands that large, that rough, that undeniably cloaked in metaphorical red.
Something in his eyes flickered at my reaction, but still, he reached out to pluck a small shard of glass from my cheekbone. I didn’t notice the pain until he pulled it out, making me hiss at the little burst of hurt.
“It’ll heal,” he assured, swiping his thumb over the droplet of blood there then, shockingly, disgustingly, he brought it to his lush mouth and sucked it off.
My stomach roiled, but my thighs tingled even as my mind rebelled against the unwanted intimacy of his touch.
#2 When Villains Rise – Releasing June 18
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Giana Darling is an USA Today, Wall Street Journal, and Top 40 Amazon Best Selling Canadian romance writer who specializes in the taboo and angsty side of love and romance. She currently lives in beautiful British Columbia where she spends time riding on the back of her man's bike, baking pies, and reading snuggled up with her Golden Retriever puppy, Romeo.
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