Luciano Mancini had walked in, and all heads turned toward him. After all, who didn’t know him?
His face was the same as always—cold, unreadable—but the air around him shifted the moment he stepped inside. His dark aura, the ruthless confidence in his stride, and that dangerously perfect face made him impossible to look away from. His presence carried a kind of heat that didn’t warm; it burned.
“Oh my God, he is so handsome,” one of the female coworkers standing beside Rosa sighed in awe.
Rosa’s eyebrows shot up before she rolled her eyes. Of course, the jerk had that effect on women.
“He’s the sexiest man I’ve ever seen. Look at that body. I heard he never sleeps with the same woman twice,” another whispered, and Rosa scoffed inwardly.
“Even if it’s just once, I want him,” a third pu
