Cuteping27

Elijah Sinclair is the youngest and most ruthless CEO in the city, known for his arrogance, cunning business tactics, and an ego the size of his billion-dollar empire. He doesn't take no for an answer—until he crosses paths with a dangerous man who couldn't care less about his money or influence.

Dante Moretti, the feared heir to the Moretti Mafia, is cold, merciless, and used to people cowering before him. That is until he meets Elijah, a man who refuses to back down, even when a gun is pointed at his head. What starts as a dangerous game of threats and defiance soon turns into something neither of them expected—attraction.

Now, with both their worlds colliding, Elijah finds himself in the middle of a deadly mafia war, and Dante finds himself doing something he swore he never would—falling for a cocky CEO who makes his blood boil in more ways than one.

Will their love survive betrayal, gunfire, and a whole lot of stubborn pride? Or will their worlds tear them apart before they can even admit their feelings?

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Excerpt:

Elijah took a leisurely sip of his whiskey, completely unfazed by the armed men surrounding him. "You know," he mused, swirling the amber liquid in his glass, "when someone invites me to a meeting, I usually expect dinner. Not death threats."

Dante leaned forward, his dark eyes gleaming with amusement. "Most men would be begging for their lives right now."

"Most men aren’t me." Elijah smirked.

A slow grin spread across Dante's face. "You're either fearless or an idiot, Sinclair."

"Or maybe I just enjoy pissing off men with superiority complexes."

A chuckle rumbled from Dante’s chest. Dangerous. Deep. Amused. "I should kill you for that."

Elijah raised an eyebrow. "You won’t."

Dante tilted his head. "Oh? And why not?"

Elijah leaned forward, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Because I think you like me, Moretti."

For the first time in years, Dante was speechless.

And that was how Elijah Sinclair, the most arrogant CEO in the city, became the unexpected obsession of the Mafia’s most feared heir.

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The Mafia's Boyfriend or The Dangerous Lover

Dante responded instantly, his grip tightening as he deepened the kiss, his tongue teasing against Elijah's with slow, devastating precision. He tasted like whiskey and danger, and Elijah hated how much he craved it.

A hand slid up Elijah's back, fingers tangling in his hair as Dante pulled him impossibly closer. The heat between them was dizzying, the air thick with something neither of them dared to name.

Elijah's hands were on Dante's chest, gripping the expensive fabric of his suit, but he wasn't pushing him away. No—he was pulling him closer, his body betraying every single defense he'd built.

He needed to stop. He needed to think. But Dante made thinking impossible.

Dante broke the kiss first, but only to tilt Elijah's head back, his lips ghosting along his jaw, down the column of his throat. "You taste better than I imagined, tesoro," he murmured against Elijah's skin, voice thick with desire.

Elijah's breath hitched, his nails digging into Dante's shoulders. "Shut up," he muttered, but it lacked any real bite.

Dante chuckled, the sound dark and knowing. He pressed another lingering kiss just below Elijah's ear, sending a shiver down his spine. "Admit it," he whispered. "You like this."

Elijah clenched his jaw. He wanted to deny it. Wanted to shove Dante away and pretend this hadn't just happened. But how could he, when his body was betraying him so thoroughly?

He forced himself to take a steadying breath, trying to regain some semblance of control. "This—" His voice came out rough, uneven. "This doesn't change anything."

Dante smirked. "Oh, it changes everything."

Before Elijah could snap back, a loud ding shattered the moment.

Reality crashed down on Elijah like a bucket of ice water.

With a sharp inhale, he pushed Dante away, his pulse still erratic. He straightened his suit with quick, jerky movements, schooling his face back into its usual impassive mask.

Dante, on the other hand, looked utterly unbothered, smirking as he adjusted his tie. "Saved by the bell," he mused, eyes dark with amusement. "For now."

Elijah shot him a warning glare before stepping out of the elevator, his expression betraying nothing.

Still ached for something he refused to name.

Losing Control