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

The Black Lotus pulsed with a dangerous rhythm, the air thick with smoke, sweat, and sin. It wasn't just a club—it was a sanctuary for criminals, a place where power was exchanged in hushed whispers and deadly stares.

Elijah Sinclair stepped inside, his presence commanding the room without a single word. Eyes turned toward him, recognizing the king among wolves. Beside him, Dante Moretti moved with effortless confidence, a predator scanning the crowd for his next kill.

Nathan was already inside, hunting down a ghost from the past.

"Luca's here," Dante murmured, leaning in close. "I can feel it."

Elijah's jaw tightened. "Then let's make sure he knows there's nowhere left to run."

They split up, weaving through the bodies, scanning every shadowed corner.

Then—movement. A familiar figure at the bar.

And across from him… Luca Moretti.

Luca was laughing, his brown eyes glinting with amusement as he leaned too close to Nathan. But Nathan wasn't pushing him away. No, his body was rigid, his hands curled into fists at his sides, but his expression?

He stepped forward just as Luca's gaze lifted—meeting his.

The smirk on Luca's lips faltered for half a second. Then, just as quickly, it returned.

"Well, well," Luca drawled, straightening. "Sinclair. Long time no see."

In a blur, he closed the distance and grabbed Luca by the throat, slamming him against the bar. Glass shattered. Gasps echoed around them.

Luca choked out a laugh. "Missed me that much?"

Elijah's fingers tightened. "I should kill you right now."

Luca's lips curled into something infuriatingly smug. "And yet… you won't."

Nathan moved before Elijah could react, gripping his wrist. "Not here."

The words were sharp, a warning wrapped in steel.

Elijah's fury burned, but he released Luca with a shove.

Dante, watching with dark amusement, finally spoke. "Looks like the prodigal snake returns."

Luca rolled his shoulders, unfazed. "I like to keep things interesting."

Elijah's voice was ice. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't put a bullet in your skull."

Luca dusted off his jacket, exhaling dramatically. Then, he leaned in, voice dropping.

"Because, Sinclair… I know something you don't."

Elijah's patience snapped. "Spit it out."

Luca grinned. "Oh, I will. But not here." He glanced around. "Too many eyes. And trust me, you'll want privacy for this conversation."

Elijah studied him, rage warring with curiosity.

Dante sighed. "Fine. Let's take this somewhere… quieter."

Nathan tensed beside him, his grip on his gun tightening.

As they dragged Luca out of the club, Elijah's gut told him one thing—

Whatever Luca had to say, it was going to change everything.

A Dance with the Devil