She was sin on two legs, and he wanted to drown in her wickedness.
The moment Damon Barese lays his gaze on Zaylah Wence, he knew he’d move heaven and hell to have her. A beautiful siren singing in a sleezy jazz club owned by one of his enemies. She’s given to him as a peace offering, but the more time he spends with her, the more he wants to unravel all her secrets.
A hint of cruelty lay in his gaze.
Zaylah was trapped, a prisoner in a gilded cage as she sang every night for a man who holds her sister captive. She’s given to Damon, to learn his secrets, but if she crosses the mafia king no one would ever find her body. She walks a tightrope between the man she’s becoming enamored with and the man who controls her.
Could there ever be a happy ever after for the mafia king and his siren?
The piano started up a bluesy number and she came in a heartbeat later. Her voice was low, melodic. The slightly husky cadence shot straight through him like a dart. She sang about lost love and heartache. How her man betrayed her. Even though it was just a song, Damon had the overwhelming urge to tear out every man’s eye in the place so they wouldn’t be able to look at her. His reaction was primal and it made no fucking sense. In his world, beautiful women were a dime a dozen, and he’d lusted after many. But this was … something different. Something more than just lust.
The song ended and a smattering of applause broke his fixation. The woman seemed to not care for her audience. She stared straight ahead, not even blinking. Her singing was more robotic than passionate. She launched into the next song, and each note went straight through him. A thousand tiny caresses sliding over his skin. It wasn’t just the fact that she was alluring. Wasn’t just that she was sexy as hell. Something grabbed hold of him, and Damon decided then and there that he had to have her.
After her set ended, the spotlight went off, and the lighting came back up. She turned, and for a split-second their gazes locked. Eyes the color of honey-gold whiskey stared vacantly at him. No warmth. No life. An emotionless doll that ignored the catcalls for more. She turned away and left the stage, not even giving a wave or smile to the crowd. She didn’t give him a second glance.
“She’s a pretty one,” Massimo commented.
Her exit from the stage released him from her spell. Damon took a drink of the beer he’d almost forgotten about.
“She’s gorgeous,” he corrected. “I want her.”
“Consider it done.”
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