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Broken Beauty by Honey Palomino

 Do I wish I’d done things differently? Sometimes.

Do I wish I’d never done it at all?
No motherfuckin’ way.

Broken Beauty, a haunting and seductive dark mafia romance from bestselling author Honey Palomino is available now!

A business betrayal.
A haunting bouquet.
And the most irrational decision I’ve ever made in my life.

It was the perfect cocktail of chaos.

Now, I’m stuck with a hostage that is equal parts sexy and fiery.

Charming her is probably out of the question,
considering the hatred that flashes in her emerald eyes every time she looks at me.

Seducing her may just be the only way to keep the peace
until I can figure out exactly what to do with her.

If we don’t kill each other first.

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Keep reading for a look inside Broken Beauty!

Trailing after her, my eyes raked over her lithe body with an unexpected hunger that roared through my veins.
She was petite.
Young.
Fit.
Very attractive.
Her narrow shoulders were stoic and solid, her waist swelling out into curvy hips, her tight round ass swaying with every step as she walked around the table and looked everywhere but at me.
Deftly, she completely ignored the heat of my gaze that followed her every move, but it was impossible not to feel the cord of energy that flowed between us.
The silence in the room grew a life of its own as Vinnie and his boys awaited my answer. The elephant in the room being that I would take my anger out on Vinnie himself, of course. I’m sure everyone expected me to draw my pistol and take his head off, settle this like the intolerable, ruthless men that everyone else believed we were.
The tension was not surprising.
Drifting around the room, the only thing moving now was the girl, filling water glasses like it was the most normal thing in the world, as if the life of every soul in the room didn’t hang in the balance of my decision.
As if her very smell had not just rocked my world.
She drew closer again and something in me snapped, like a bridge that had taken on too much weight.
Maybe it was stress.
Maybe it was years and years of unprocessed grief.
Maybe it was overreaching, or lashing out, or maybe, just maybe — it was some kind of perverted toxic masculinity bullshit masquerading as some kind of wishful thinking.
Maybe I wanted a miracle.
Maybe I’d gone insane, once and for all.
Maybe it truly was the scent of Beauty that sent me careening over the edge of sanity.
Whatever it was, what I did next changed everything forever.
Do I wish I’d done things differently? Sometimes.
Do I wish I’d never done it at all?
No motherfuckin’ way.

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