Page 4 of The Billionaire's Vow

If she had seen him on the street, she would have guessed he was either Italian or Greek.The name suggested both.That impossibly hard jawline covered in a thick beard, those dark, piercing eyes, and that Roman nose—they all hinted at his Italian ancestry.But weren’t those attributes common among the Greeks as well?And his name…Dimitriwas distinctly Greek, yetDe Lucawas undeniably Italian.

But his heritage wasn’t what made her palms grow damp.

Giselle knew that Dimitri De Luca wasn’t just the owner of the company where she worked, he was also head of the entire Northeastern Mafia.

That fact wasn’t widely known.Her co-workers had no idea that they worked for a man with absolute power over Boston and New York’s underground world.And to be fair, Sindate Corp was a legitimate operation.As far as she could tell, there were no outward signs of money laundering—at least, not in the accounts she had access to.

Dimitri ran a very profitable import-export empire, stocking everything from high-end luxury goods to everyday retail products across the Northeast.He was meticulous, efficient, and, from all reports, ruthless.

If drugs or people were being smuggled along with those shipments, she had never seen proof of it.

But shehadseen something.

Someone—she wasn’t sure who—was stealing.

Money.Inventory.Supplies.

And she had just thrown that revelation at one of the most dangerous men in the country like a grenade, and she was now waiting to see how he would react.

Her free hand clenched into a fist by her side, her nails digging into her palm.

How long is he going to stare at me like that?

The silence stretched between them, growing more oppressive by the moment.His face was unreadable, no flicker of emotion offered a clue as to what he was thinking.

His stillness made him all the more intimidating.

Men like Dimitri De Luca didn’t fidget.They didn’t look away when things got uncomfortable.Theyabsorbedinformation.Calculated.Decided whether someone was useful or a problem.

Good grief, am I a problem?

Biting her lip, she debated whether to continue, to try and fill the silence with more details, or just…waitwhile he absorbed what she’d told him.

The latter was more difficult than it should have been.

Her body wanted to fidget, to shift her weight, to look anywhere but at him.But she forced herself to stay still.To meet his stare head-on, even as a prickle of nervous heat crawled up her spine.

Because despite the fact that her heart was pounding against her ribs, despite the fact that this was the mostterrifyingsilence she had ever experienced—

She still couldn’t stop noticinghim.

The sheersizeof him.

How the fabric of his clothes stretched over those shoulders – from the front this time.How even standing still, he radiated a controlled power that made her stomach twist in a way she didn’t want to name.

How much easier it would be if he were a typical, arrogant executive—the kind she could ignore.But no, of course not.He had to be built like a boxer with a face carved from stone.And his beard somehow made the man so much more…feral!

The tension in the room coiled tighter.

Then, finally,finally, his lips parted.

“Repeat that,” he said calmly.

Giselle swallowed hard.

Oh, darn.

She might be in trouble.