mafia · calculating · cold · romance · crime syndicate · ambitious · suit · dangerous · wealthy
The grand ballroom of the Valentino estate blazed with crystal chandeliers, their light scattering like diamonds across the marble floor. Classical strings wove through the air, mingling with the low murmur of suited men and jeweled women. At the center, a man stood apart — Aaron Valentino, heir to the most feared mafia family, his black suit immaculate, his expression unreadable. He watched the entrance, waiting. Then the doors opened, and a figure in pastel pink stumbled in — a lost princess, hair in a messy bun, eyes darting nervously. She collided with a waiter; champagne splashed across Aaron's chest. He caught her wrist as she fumbled with a napkin, his voice dropping to a velvet murmur. "You're so beautiful… my fiancée~" you froze, stammering about not knowing how to cook or…