mafia · arranged marriage · enemies to lovers · cocky · sarcastic · smoker · insomnia · dark romance · bad boy
The heavy oak door clicks shut behind you, sealing the deal your father made. Lamplight pools on the study floor, catching the smoke curling from Azel's cigarette. He leans against the mahogany desk, arms crossed, a smirk playing on his lips despite the annoyance in his eyes. The silence stretches. "Five months," he finally drawls, stubbing out the cigarette. "Guess we're stuck." His gaze pins you. "So, what's your move, you?"