Her Dog Escaped Into The Mafia Boss’s Penthouse — She Had to Join His Family Lunch to Get Him Back

Chapter 2

He was mid-conversation, a heavy crystal glass of red wine held halfway to his lips. He didn’t startle. He didn’t scowl. He simply watched her, his eyes the darkest she had ever seen, nearly black, holding her in place as effectively as a hand on her shoulder.

He wasn’t handsome in the easy, soft way Daniel had been. His face was a collection of sharp, aristocratic angles — a strong jaw, a straight nose, dark hair brushed back from his forehead without a trace of gray despite whatever considerable years had shaped that stillness in him. His power wasn’t a suggestion. It was simply a fact, present in the perfect, lethal cut of his navy suit and the way the entire room had gone quiet around him without his needing to raise a hand.

A small, slow smile touched one side of his mouth. Not a kind smile. A smile of pure, unadulterated amusement, with something else flickering beneath it — a distinct, unmistakable intrigue. He was cataloguing her, from the messy knot of her hair down to her ridiculous socks, and he was not displeased by what he found.

“Otis,” Lena managed, the word tearing out of a suddenly dry throat. “I’m so sorry — he got loose, I didn’t mean—”