A woman accepts $100K from her boyfriend for surgery, only to be drawn into a dangerous mystery when a secret admirer with mafia ties starts sending her messages. Torn between her relationship and the shadowy stranger's pull, she must uncover who is watching her and why before the truth catches up with her.
I asked her who brought me home. She lit up like it was Christmas morning, said it was a tall, incredibly handsome Sharp jaw, dark eyes, drove a black car that looked like it cost more than our building. Way more handsome than that boyfriend of yours, by the way, and way more of a
She added that part on her way out, grinning. Honestly, Nico wasn't bad looking. You didn't get to be the heir of the Valentini family with a mediocre face, so for Mrs. Cooper to say someone was more handsome than him, and more of a gentleman?
One face came to mind. Sharp jaw. Dark eyes. The kind of face that made you forget what you were saying mid-sentence.
But Sorin Valentini didn't do secret admirer shit. He barely did eye contact. A man like that didn't pine. He is the Don.
He picked. I pulled up the security camera app on my laptop, a black Rolls Royce with a private plate rolled into frame. The driver opened the rear door, and there I was, curled up in Sorin's arms like a drunk kitten. He nodded politely at Mrs. Cooper, then carried me inside like I
nothing. My face was on fire. I grabbed my phone, opened our DMs. He'd sent a good morning about an hour ago. He didn't deny his identity. Instead, he unsent the photo. That wasn't meant for you. My apologies. Followed by a wide-eyed puppy gif. Sorin, completely