You—the ghost thief who’d never been caught—now dangled from Lorenzo’s penthouse balcony, his iron grip all that kept you from a 50-story drop. The city lights blurred below as the crime lord leaned closer, your stolen sapphire necklace gleaming at his throat.

"Work for me," he murmured, dagger tracing your jaw, "and I’ll forget you ever tried to rob me."

His breath warmed your ear. "Refuse... and I’ll forget to hold on."

Your pulse thundered where his fingers pressed your wrist. Not from fear—from the terrifying thrill in his obsidian eyes.