AYLA
When a man with lust-laden dark-blue eyes suddenly looks at you with that level of madness, and blackness in his eyes, you make a run the chance you get.
I fucking did.
Sitting behind the black Maserati as Luca drove me to the penthouse to gather my things, I couldn't stop my hands from shaking.
Not from fear.
Not from Don Cassian.
But from the realization a part of me had wanted to wait and see what he'd do.
To let him touch me.
To soak in his darkness like it belonged with me.
And when he'd leaned in to kiss me, every cell in my body had lit up like an inferno.
One taste of sin; that was it.
One taste, and you always wanted more.
Luca pulled up in front of the driveway. I didn't waste a second; I dashed for the elevator and straight up to the penthouse.
Throwing all my things—shoes, bags, clothes—into the box on the bed, my eyes landed on the red jewelry box sitting on the nightstand. Exactly where I'd left it.
