Beauty and the don

Isabella Romano didn’t belong in a place like this. The air was thick with the scent of whiskey and cigars, the hum of low voices mixing with the occasional burst of laughter. Gilded chandeliers dripped with opulence, casting a golden glow over the lavish bar where men in tailored suits discussed business that could kill a man. She adjusted the strap of her bag, exhaling slowly. She was only here to deliver a custom suit to a high-profile client—an easy job, in and out. No lingering, no distractions. But then she felt it. A gaze, heavy and unrelenting. Her spine stiffened as an unsettling awareness crept over her. She didn’t need to look to know someone was watching her. But curiosity was a cruel thing, and when she finally lifted her head, she met a pair of dark, predatory eyes across the room. He was seated in the corner, a man built from shadows and power. Alessio Moretti. The name alone sent fear through lesser men, yet it was whispered with both reverence and terror. Isabella had seen dangerous men before, but this was something else entirely. He wasn’t just dangerous—he was in control. Of the room, of the people in it, and now, of her breath. Her fingers curled around the smooth fabric of the garment bag she held, grounding herself. There was no reason for him to be looking at her. She was no one. And yet, he didn’t look away. Alessio leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table as if assessing a rare and unexpected gift that had wandered into his domain. His expression was unreadable, but there was something in his stare—a promise, a threat, an unspoken claim. Isabella’s heart pounded against her ribs. She forced herself to look away, her mind screaming at her to finish the delivery and leave. But something told her that no matter how quickly she walked out that door, she would not be escaping him. Because a man like Alessio Moretti didn’t simply look at something and let it go. He took it. And God help whoever stood in his way.