Illicit Love: The Complete Series by Nichole Rose

Illicit Love: The Complete Series by Nichole Rose

Author:Nichole Rose [Rose, Nichole]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: anonymous
Published: 2024-09-17T00:00:00+00:00


Chapter Two

Karina

What am I doing?

The question bounces against the inside of my skull as I follow Coda out of the ballroom, his fingers laced with mine. We leave my father and everyone I know in our wake. I feel dozens of eyes on us, but I don't look back. I don't stop walking either. Not even when my legs shake.

I don't know who this beautiful man is, but I can't keep my eyes off of him. He's a fortress, his body chiseled from stone. The muscles lining his back bunch and shift with every step, visible even through the fabric of his expensive suit. Despite his overwhelming size, he moves with a lethal elegance that's captivating.

How can one man command so much power?

My father's warnings about not trusting anyone, especially men like Coda Passero, echo in my mind. According to him, men like Coda are ruthless, cunning…consumed by their need for power and control. Yet, it's that same raw, unapologetic dominance that compels me toward him like a moth drawn fatally to a flame.

There's a dark magnetism about him that I find irresistible. He's not like anyone I've ever met before, not even close. I'm not sure there's another man like him in all of Chicago.

I expect him to lead me toward the doors of the hotel, but he doesn't. He cuts left and leads me to the bank of elevators nestled in an alcove.

We wait in silence, his eyes locked on me. I'm trapped in their depths, fascinated by the mystery they hold. There's so much flickering there, yet I can't read any it.

Who is he?

Not a cop. Not a fan of my father, either. That doesn't tell me much. My father doesn't have many fans left in Chicago. He's been a cop since he was my age. He's made a lot of enemies in that time. And they aren't all men he's put behind bars.

I think Coda is one of those—an enemy he made without ever locking cuffs around his wrists. I just don't know why or how. My father…well, there's a lot I don't know about the things he does.

Growing up, I always thought he was a hero. Cops are supposed to be the good guys, right? Even when he was at his worst, I clung to the believe that he was a hero. If I just tried harder, followed the rules, and did everything perfectly, he wouldn't get so upset with me. He was a hero and that's a lot of stress to carry. It wasn't until a few years ago that I realized I was making excuses for someone who didn't deserve them. Heroes can disappoint you, too. They're just as human as the rest of us—sometimes, they're worse.

I'm not sure if my father is worse or if he's just human. I haven't figured that part out yet. But I know he's not a saint. I know the world isn't black and white. There's good and evil and a whole lot of complicated shit in between.



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