Page 23 of Star Claimed Omega
‘A wise decision,’ Santi acknowledged.
He turned his attention to Oriel, who met Santi’s stare with fury but managed a clipped nod.
‘By making this move, you’re picking a confrontation with the Lombardis,’ he growled. ‘This is how you initiate that war.’
Santi confronted his glare without flinching. ‘Let them mobilize. They are largely in hiding, given how thoroughly we neutralized them a few months prior. If they dare challenge us, we’ll bury them beside your destroyed shipment.’
He nodded to Mak, the Signet Group’s chief legal genius, who stepped in, unfurling holo contracts onto the table.
Santi offered the pair of Dons an expansive smile that was equal measure lethal charm and cold sincerity.
‘If you break this covenant, you’ll join your cargo in the void. Welcome to the Signet family.’
As the two mafia bosses leaned with much reluctance over the glowing holo sheets, using e-pens to sign the pact, Santi crossed his arms over his chest, his mind drifting.
He hardly registered the final flourishes of binding confirmation.
The moment was, in every respect, historic. Game-changing. A forced coalition, tethering two power-hungry cartel empires to Signet’s cause.
Yet, his focus had already left the ops room. It reverted to her:Soleil.
The stunning woman who stumbled upon him in the lakeside showers.
Her essence somehow lingered around him, capturing his imagination and lodging itself in his damn spirit without effort.
He recalled the last time he laid eyes on her: dark brown hair tucked into a loose bun, a few rebellious wisps slipping free, curling down the nape of her neck.
Her skin, a clear, warm honey, smooth as sun-warmed silk.
So tempting that his lips craved to trail over it, if only to discover if the sensation was as sweet as the vision.
Her pert nose, that tiny constellation of freckles across her cheeks, and the delicate dip of a dimple that surfaced only when her guard lowered.
It was a rare, precious sight. Her chin tapered, fragile, a profile one might find on ancient tapestries, painted by artists who understood how to capture ethereal secrets.
Her physique.Fokk.
She was svelte, yet curvaceous in all the necessary places.
Her hips made his blood pulse with heat, and her thighs possessed a lushness that evoked in him fantasies of wrapping them around his waist.
She was voluptuous, profoundly feminine, sensual, the exact embodiment of his innate temptation.
Those eyes, hazel shot through with veins of burnished gold, framed by the longest lashes he had ever seen.
She had a way of glancing at him from under her lashes, as if she didn’t want him to glimpse what lay within, but he saw enough.
He recognized her fire, her spirit, and her freakin’ will.
What undid him was the quiet grace of her presence.
She didn’t seek attention; in fact, she seemed determined to avoid it.
Unlike the hyper-stylized women who roamed the flotilla, all painted lips and maniacal ambition for thrills or status, Soleil wasn’t hunting anyone, least of all him.
He sensed a profound need for anonymity.
Who was she hiding from?The intrigue beneath her shy glances drew him in, suggesting a hidden mystery that was by no means naïve.
