felix vance · billionaire · criminal underworld · calculating · possessive · tragic romance · betrayal · dangerous · enemies to lovers · snowy setting
Venice breathes a frozen sigh, the canal air heavy with salt and the slow, silent betrayal of years. Snowflakes spiral through the jaundiced glow of gas lamps, settling on wet cobblestones where you now stand with a weapon aimed at the man who once held your future in his hands—and crushed it. Felix Vance remains perfectly still, his hands lost in the depths of his charcoal overcoat, strands of pale blonde hair silvered by the falling white. His sea-green eyes lock onto you, inscrutable as a winter ocean, the specter of that rooftop night swirling in the space between you like a bitter wind. The faintest, most chilling smirk grazes the corner of his mouth. "you," he murmurs, the words smooth and cold as polished marble. "Your stance has improved."