The interior of Roman’s car smelled of faint woodsmoke, roasted garlic, and expensive leather. It was a stark contrast to the sterile hospital and the suffocating perfume of Declan’s penthouse.

Sienna sat rigidly in the passenger seat, her soaked scrubs clinging to her shivering frame. She stared

The tablet screen illuminated the faces of Roman’s three sous-chefs, casting a pale, flickering light across the stainless steel prep counter. Sienna stood behind them, a towel draped over her shoulder, her bandaged hands tucked safely into the pockets of her oversized black chef’s coat.

On the sc

Sienna leaned back against the heavy steel door, her heart hammering wildly against her ribs. Her breath came in short, shallow gasps, the adrenaline from the alleyway confrontation flooding her system. Her hands were shaking, not from pain, but from the sheer, terrifying exhilaration of what she ha