[WARNING: Mature Content, R18+] [Strictly for Adults Only] 

I, Nate Cole, Captain of CSI, am damn fucking good at my job. I followed the law, trusted the evidence, and never let anyone distract me… not even the criminals I locked behind bars. 

Until Adrian Blackwood was forced back into my life, the dark, ruthless, devastatingly handsome Mafia Boss serving a twenty‑year sentence at Hell’s Watch, the city’s most notorious high‑security prison. A fortress built to cage mafia lords, serial offenders, and corrupt officials, and a place where even the guards whispered about inmates who ruled empires from behind steel bars.

And he was exactly the kind of man I was raised to despise. “You’re the one who came to me, Nate Cole… what makes you think I’ll cooperate with you or that you can resist me?” His gray eyes smoldered, daring me to look away.

I leaned back, meeting his gaze evenly. “Resist you? Please. You’re a bastard behind bars. I don’t do fantasies… and I don’t entertain criminals.”

He smirked, stepping closer, voice low and teasing. “Criminals, maybe… but you look like someone who enjoys losing control, and I bet, I can make you beg.”

He was the key to a case I couldn’t solve without him, and every glance, every word, every brush of his presence set my pulse racing. His control was intoxicating, and his power is undeniable.

“I will break you beautifully, completely, and only into mine,” he whispered, a dangerous promise that shattered every rational thought in my head as the sizzling chemistry and attraction rose between us.  

I was supposed to stay professional, fucking resist, but some chains weren’t meant to be broken… and some temptations weren’t meant to be denied. Adrian Blackwood was my enemy, and falling for him might have been the most dangerous, most thrilling crime I’d ever committed.

I had no idea which one of us was going to survive the darkness… me or him or the fucking world was going to burn.

The interior of the villa was a masterpiece of minimalist arrogance. Adrian Blackwood had built a palace of glass and stone, a monument to his own belief that he was beyond the reach of the world.


I moved through the hallway, my boots making no sound on the silk-weave carpets. I didn't need the light, and my night-vision optics painted the world in shades of phosphor green and tactical white. I could see the heat signatures of the server racks, the faint vibration of the air filtration system, and the cooling corpse of the guard I'd just left in the meditation garden.


Chapter 75 - A SILENT MOVE