The Billionaire's Promise - Excerpt
Power & Passion Series
Ava stepped into the private office, the heels of her boots echoing against the marble floor. She wasn’t intimidated. Not by Luca Bernardi. Not by the opulence that dripped from the walls like gold-plated arrogance. Her mouth was set in a determined line, her shoulders squared, though her stomach twisted with uncertainty.
He was already there—leaning against his desk like he owned the world. Which, in a way, he did. Las Vegas pulsed to his rhythm. His gaze locked onto her the moment she entered, steady and unreadable, like a predator watching something interesting, not yet threatening, but worthy of attention.
“Miss Santos,” Luca said, his voice smooth, dark as espresso and just as addictive. “I appreciate your punctuality.”
Ava folded her arms across her chest. “I don’t have time to waste.”
His lips twitched, barely. “Neither do I.”
For a moment, they simply stared at each other. She felt it—some magnetic pull between them—and it annoyed her. She didn’t want to be one of those women who got pulled under by a handsome face and a five-billion-dollar empire. But damn if Luca Bernardi didn’t know how to wear a suit.
“Let’s talk about the package,” she said, taking the chair opposite his. “The one with no return address. Wrapped in brown paper. Delivered to my office.”
He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he poured two glasses of something amber, setting one in front of her without asking if she wanted it.
“I didn’t send it,” he said finally. “But I know who did.”
“And?”
Luca sat, stretching one arm across the back of his chair. “It was a message—from a man named Tanaka. He’s trying to get my attention. Unfortunately, he used you to do it.”
Ava’s eyes narrowed. “So I’m a pawn in a turf war between mobsters?”
He tilted his head, amused. “That’s a dramatic interpretation.”
“But not incorrect.”
“No,” he admitted. “Not incorrect.”
Ava reached for the glass, more to stall than to drink. “What does he want?”
“Control of the shipping routes on the West Coast. My friend Max runs them. Tanaka wants him gone. He thinks bringing chaos to Vegas will draw Max here.” He paused, his gaze flickering across her face. “And you—your business—is an easy target.”
She sipped the whiskey. It burned, but not unpleasantly. “Then fix it.”
“I intend to.” His tone was low and firm.
A beat passed. Two.
She shifted. “What do you want from me?”
Luca leaned forward, eyes intense. “I want you to let me protect you.”
Ava’s laugh was short and sharp. “That sounds a lot like control.”
“It’s protection,” he said. “There’s a difference.”
“Only if I say no and you respect that.”
Luca studied her. “Fair enough.”
Another long silence stretched between them, thick with unsaid things. Finally, Ava stood.
“I’m not interested in playing games. I’ve worked too hard to build something from nothing, and I’m not going to let someone else’s war destroy it.”
He stood too, matching her energy without intimidation. “Then don’t fight me.”
She blinked. “You assume I’ll say yes.”
“I assume,” he said, stepping closer, “that you’re too smart not to.”
Ava held his gaze, her breath catching slightly. He was too close. Close enough for her to smell the woodsy scent of his cologne, the barely restrained power beneath his quiet demeanor.
“This is business,” she whispered.
“For now,” Luca murmured. “But I’ve never been great at keeping things compartmentalized.”
Ava turned, heart pounding, and walked to the door.
She paused, hand on the knob, and looked back at him.
“Keep your enemies close, Mr. Bernardi,” she said. “And your distractions even closer, right?”
He smiled. Slowly. Like a man who had all the time in the world.
“Only if the distraction is worth it.”
