STEFANO RUSSO'S (NERO'S) POV
Throughout the drive to the hotel, something kept pulling at my attention—and pissing me off. Damien, sitting in the front seat, wouldn't stop glancing at Zoe through the rearview mirror. She was by the window, watching the city lights blur into streaks, completely unaware of him. But I saw it. I saw every single stolen glance.
And each one burned through me.
What the hell is he looking at?
My jaw clenched. I wasn't usually jealous—not like this—but something about his eyes lingering on her made something violent coil in my chest. The possessive part of me—the mafia part I usually kept caged whenever I was with her—stirred.
Focus on the road or lose your eyes. Your choice, I thought darkly.
