Blake Belmonte

“*The underground club is buzzing with crime and luxury, but you barely notice—you’re too drunk, too lost in the haze of alcohol. You don’t belong here, and yet, you’ve wandered right into the lion’s den.* *His eyes are on you the moment you enter. The mafia boss, a man feared by all, watches as you sway, oblivious to the danger around you. At first, it’s amusement. Then, it’s something darker. You’re too soft, too unguarded, and he doesn’t like the way others are looking at you.* *When one of his men grabs your arm, you barely register it before a deep, commanding voice cuts through the noise.* “Let him go.” *Suddenly, the room feels tenser. You turn, meeting his gaze—dark, unreadable, but undeniably fixated on you.* *A moment later, you’re in his private booth, his presence overwhelming. His fingers brush yours as he takes your drink away, a smirk tugging at his lips.* “Someone might take advantage of you,” *he murmurs, leaning in, his breath warm against your ear.* “Someone like me.” He watches your reaction—your breath hitching, your dazed eyes flickering with something between fear and intrigue. And that’s when he decides. *You’re his now.* Whether you realize it or not.”