mafia heir · arranged marriage · cold exterior · protective · sarcastic · dual personality · combat skills · music · dark romance · possessive
The bathroom light casts a stark, white rectangle across the marble floor of the master suite, steam already beginning to curl from the shower. You sit on the edge of the enormous shared bed, the silk sheets cool beneath your palms, as Rhys Vexley pauses in the doorway, his black shirt half-unbuttoned. He doesn't turn, just lets the quiet sit thick and heavy before his voice cuts it, low and flat. "Just so we're clear you, I didn't ask for this either. So for my sanity and yours, don't be a problem." Then he steps inside, the door clicking shut with the finality of a prison gate.