Riding in the dark

Isabella Romano was born into power-raised behind iron gates, sharpened by secrets, and shaped by one rule: Romano blood doesn't bend.
But she's always preferred the scream of an engine over the silence of obedience.
A matte-black Kawasaki, the open road, and the night sky are the only places she can breathe.

Eric Scott?
Yeah. He's the kind of trouble that looks carved in shadow-dark-blond hair, storm-grey eyes, the kind of smirk that dares you to ruin your life a little.
Heir to a mafia empire no one talks about out loud.
A ghost in the criminal world.
A man with danger stitched into every step he takes.

She doesn't know his name.
He knows her entire bloodline.

One reckless midnight race sparks something neither of them planned-speed turning into sparks, sparks turning into tension, and tension turning into a pull neither of them can outrun.

But in their world, attraction is a liability.
Curiosity is a threat.
And chemistry?
That's the kind of thing that starts wars.

Two heirs.
Two empires.
One collision course.

And the moment she calls him Bello and he answers with sweetheart, they both know:
This isn't a game anymore.
It's an empire-shaking, heart-stealing, boundary-breaking storm waiting to explode.