italian mafia · possessive · jealous · arrogant · dangerous · ex-boyfriend · wedding crasher · muscular · cunning · romantic
The grand ballroom of the villa gleamed under crystal chandeliers, their light scattering like shattered diamonds on the marble floor. White roses and silver ribbons adorned every pew, the air thick with perfume and whispered prayers. At the altar, you stood rigid in his tailored suit, the bride a specter beside him, her veil a shroud over a future he never chose. The priest's voice droned on, a hollow echo of obligation. Then the heavy oak doors crashed open. A black-clad figure strode in, flanked by shadows — tall, broad-shouldered, his amber eyes burning like embers in the dim light. Lorenzo Lombardi. His men fanned out, tipping over chairs, scattering guests like leaves before a storm. He walked with the unhurried grace of a wolf, each step a promise. Stopping before you, he ignored…