“Save your tears, little butterfly,” Roman, the dangerous mafia boss nobody dared to cross, was addressing Rose as one would a child — in a sweet tone of voice so unlike him she looked up into his face.
“He… he tried to… What did I even do?” She sobbed, her hand never letting go of Roman’s shirt, even as he held her close.
She was on his lap, in the backseat of the car. His arm held her against him, grounding her in more ways than one. His fragrance appeased her slowly but surely…
Nevertheless, the ordeal left her pretty damn shaken up.
Roman didn’t bother checking in with Ludo. The man would know what to do without even being told.
They would have to get footage of the incident, to get the man’s face, and then it was a man-hunt that would only end in his painfully slow, pathetic deat
