Loving the Enemy

room, filled with beautiful dresses, tailored suits, and the scent of

. She could guess already what the topic was going to be: more business, more threats, and more deals sealed with a handshake. Her f

stood, surprisingly at such a place as no one else ever anticipated in a black gown of value

ll scanning the crowd and when she looked up, fixing their ga

no De

t. He was a shadow in her life for as long as she could remember-always there, never too

eyes seemed glued to hers. But there was something hypnotic in Santino, some

ulled her from

, Santino's enforcer, and a childhood friend of his. Sofia was everything

gaze not leaving Santino for a second. "Be c

zy lied, forcing a smi

areness of his presence or a

wer, a familiar voice

r father's dark eyes, as well as the same defined jawline. But where their father had wielded sheer

e. "Giovanni. Enj

ncing toward Santino. "What are you doing

d. "From Sa

is a problem." Giovanni lowered his voice to a growl. "He's been trying t

y shot back, her voice angry.

ped, his eyes ice. "In this world,

d, especially when it involved stuff she knew all too well. But before she could say anything,

DeLuca was standin

isper sending a shiver down her spine. He wasn'

. She took a deep

her tone calm while i

nt of amusement appeared in his eyes.

t, vague and distant - whispers of deals, threats, power struggles. Her family had alwa

though she knew she was lying. She remembered his

ke she was about

d, his smile deepeni

body suddenly brimming with host

his face grew more frigid. "A conversa

didn't do anything without an agenda and her brother

mes, DeLuca," Giovanni said sha

nd. "I am not here for your busine

me?" she said, in a voice whi

. "Yes, I want to speak

ovanni tightened his jaw, but before he could retort, Iz

iovanni. You don

ng into," his eyes showing his worry. She looked at him

said to Santino, her voice harsh but

Fine. I'll wait until you're ready. But just k

the drapes of her dress, a reminder that the DeLucas weren't sim