His Dangerous Love: The Writer And The Don

I was exactly three thousand words away from eviction when the heir to the New York underworld smashed my laptop and offered me a job instead of an apology.

Dante Vitiello wanted me to write a memoir that would paint him as a saint.

I moved into his penthouse, thinking I could keep things professional. But when his arranged fiancée, the daughter of the Chicago Outfit, arrived, she didn't see an employee. She saw a threat.

She didn't just humiliate me; she leaked fake evidence to the press, branding me as a federal informant.

I woke up in a hospital bed with the word "RAT" plastered across every gossip site.

Sofia’s guards were stationed outside my door, blocking even the nurses. I was a liability. A stain on the Vitiello name.

I knew how these stories ended. The Prince always chooses the Family. The Alliance is more important than the girl.

I was packing my bag, shaking with fear, ready to disappear into the night to save him from ruin.

But Dante didn't come to fire me. He walked into the boardroom where his father and the Chicago Boss were waiting for him to beg for forgiveness.

He looked at the crown that was his birthright, then he looked at the gun on the table.

He didn't kneel. He didn't apologize.

He slammed his weapon down, shattering a hundred-year alliance and forfeiting his empire with a single sentence.

"Keep the crown. I take the girl."