The sun hadn't even fully risen when Luciano pulled the silk sheets off my body. The cold air of the penthouse hit my skin like a slap. I shivered and tried to reach for the warmth he had just taken away, but his hand was already gone. He was standing at the foot of the bed, already dressed in a black tactical shirt and dark trousers. His holstered Glock rested against his thigh. He looked like death itself.
"Get up," he said. His voice was a low, morning rasp that left no room for argument. "The world doesn't wait for Queens to finish their beauty sleep."
"Luciano... it’s five in the morning," I groaned, pushing my hair out of my face. My body still ached from the way he had claimed me the night before.
"In five minutes, you are in the training room. In six minutes, if you’re not there
