Page 8 of King of Manhattan

Vince's laugh is rich and genuine, a sound I'm quickly becoming addicted to. "Be gentle with your critique. I'm sensitive about my art."

“Wow.” My reaction is genuine. He’s drawn a gorgeous landscape of the lake and the city skyline in the distance. “It’s beautiful, Vince.”

“Thank you, Emily. Your opinion means a lot to me.”

As the day progresses, we zigzag across the city, each of us sharing our favorite spots. I show him the tiny bookstore in the Village where I spent countless hours as a law student.

"Having trouble there, Goliath?" I tease as he ducks under a low-hanging sign.

He shoots me a mock glare. "I'll have you know, I feel perfectly at home among these towering stacks of... what are these again? Oh right, books."

"Don't tell me the great Vincent Russo doesn't read," I gasp in faux shock.

"I'll have you know," he says again, plucking a book from a nearby shelf, "I am very well-read. See? 'Green Eggs and Ham.' A classic."

I can't help but laugh. "I'm impressed. Did you get all the way through it?"

His eyes narrow playfully. "I'll ignore that jab, counselor. But only because you look so hot when you're being snarky."

Our final stop is a rooftop garden I never knew existed, with a breathtaking view of the city skyline.

"Is there anywhere in New York you don't know about?" I ask as we step out onto the roof. "Or do you have some sort of secret underground map of the city?"

He smirks, a dangerous glint in his eye. "If I told you, I'd have to kill you."

"Ah, there's the dark and mysterious man I know and... tolerate," I quip.

His laugh is low and rich. "Only tolerate? I'm wounded, Emily. And here I thought we were having such a good time."

"Well," I say, my breath catching as I take in the glittering cityscape, "I suppose you might be growing on me."

Vince's arms encircle me from behind, and I can't help but lean back into his solid warmth. "I'll take what I can get."

"How do you know about this place?" I ask, trying to ignore the way my body responds to his proximity.

"I own the building," he says, his voice low and dangerous in my ear. "Sometimes I come up here to remind myself of what I'm fighting for."

I turn in his arms, studying his face. "And what's that?"

His expression is fierce, almost feral. "Power. Control. The ability to shape the world as I see fit." His hand comes up to grip my chin. "To protect what's mine."

The possessiveness in his tone should scare me. Instead, it sends a thrill shooting down my spine. "Vince," I start, not sure what I'm going to say.

He shakes his head, leaning in until our foreheads touch. "I know you have questions, Emily. I know there are things about me, about my world, that should send you running. And I promise, I'll tell you everything. But right now, I need to know if you're ready for this. Because once you're in, there's no going back."

I should say no. I should demand answers, should listen to the part of my brain screaming that I'm getting in too deep. But as the city lights twinkle below us, as Vince's arms tighten around me like he'll never let go, I find myself nodding.

"I'm in," I whisper, sealing my fate.

His kiss is bruising, demanding, full of dark promise. As I lose myself in it, I realize I'm past the point of no return. Because despite all my reservations, despite the danger that clings to him like a second skin, I'm falling for Vincent Russo. And I'm terrified of where this freefall might lead.

As we break apart, both breathing heavily, I can't help but voice the question that's been nagging at me all day. "Why me, Vince? Of all the women in New York, why pursue someone who might represent what you are working against?"

He studies me for a long moment, his dark eyes unreadable. "Because, Emily," he says finally, "you're not afraid to challenge me. You see the darkness in me and you don't flinch. Do you have any idea how rare that is?"

I swallow hard, recognizing the truth in his words. "And what happens when that darkness becomes too much? When my principles clash with your... business interests?"

Vince's smile is sharp, predatory. "Then, counselor, we'll have a very interesting negotiation on our hands. But for now," he pulls me close again, his lips brushing my ear, "why don't we see where this night takes us?"

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