Chapter Eleven

Antonio Romano was a man of control. Every move he made was calculated, every decision weighed with precision. In his world, hesitation meant weakness, and weakness was something he had never been afforded.

To those who worked under him, he was ruthless, efficient, and utterly unforgiving. He spoke in sharp commands, expected immediate obedience, and tolerated no mistakes.

But with Jasmine?

She had seen none of that.

She had only seen the version of him he had allowed her to see—the man who looked at her with quiet curiosity, who spoke in measured tones rather than orders, who seemed almost patient.

Antonio was aware of the difference, and it unnerved him.

He didn't have time to entertain distractions, yet he found himself unable to ignore her.

As the Rolls-Royce pulled into an underground parking structure, Konrad Conner was already waiting, leaning against the hood of a sleek black Aston Martin.

Konrad had been Antonio's left-hand man for years. He was just as deadly, just as calculated, but where Antonio exuded quiet intensity, Konrad was more reckless—a man who enjoyed the thrill of danger a little too much.

"Boss," Konrad greeted, pushing off the car. "You're late."

Antonio stepped out of the vehicle, adjusting his cuffs. "I don't recall answering to you."

Konrad smirked. "Fair enough." He tossed a folder onto the hood of the car. "Everything you need. Movements, known associates, last confirmed location."

Antonio flipped open the folder, scanning the contents. His expression remained unreadable, but Konrad knew him well enough to see the tension in his jaw.

"This is worse than we thought," Antonio muttered.

Konrad crossed his arms. "That's an understatement. He's been making quiet moves, but it won't stay quiet for long. We need to act before it escalates."

Antonio shut the folder with a sharp snap. "We handle it tonight."

Konrad grinned. "Now you're speaking my language."

Antonio gave him a pointed look. "I don't need your excitement. I need efficiency."

Konrad raised his hands in mock surrender. "Relax, boss. You know I get the job done."

Antonio sighed, rubbing his temple. He trusted Konrad—he wouldn't have kept him by his side otherwise—but their approaches to handling situations were vastly different.

"Keep it clean," Antonio warned. "No unnecessary casualties."

Konrad's smirk didn't fade, but there was understanding in his gaze. "I know the rules."

Antonio gave him a final nod before stepping back toward his car. As Vincent opened the door for him, Konrad called out, "By the way, heard you were seen with a certain therapist at the event."

Antonio's expression darkened. "And?"

Konrad chuckled. "Nothing. Just didn't think you were the type to go for someone so... normal."

Antonio's jaw tightened, but he didn't reply.

Because the truth was—he hadn't thought so either.

But Jasmine Harrington was proving to be an exception to everything he thought he knew.

And Antonio didn't know if that was a good thing.

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