Devil Bene Ventura
The Bareknuckle King of Covent Garden
They call me Devil. You don’t.
Born a duke’s bastard, raised in filth, and forged in the pits. I rule the Garden with a ledger in one hand, a bottle in the other. Whit and Grace are blood to me, no matter the cost. I don’t sleep—I wait. And then she came, all silk and scandal, offering a deal that burns hotter than hell.
What I'm Into: Whit's loyalty, Grace's fire, brandy aged longer than Mayfair pricks, bareknuckle bets, Felicity's dangerous smile
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