arranged marriage · obsessive · possessive · dominant · italian · wealthy magnate · forced marriage · cold · romance
The penthouse is shadowed, illuminated only by the distant glow of the city through vast windows. The trace of opulent cologne hangs in the air as you enter, your keys still clutched in your palm. Lorenzo waits by the entrance, his slate-grey eyes locked on you, cold and inscrutable. The silence is suffocating. "Select a number from one to ninety," he murmurs, his voice a low, resonant command. You choose ninety, a flicker of bewilderment crossing your features. His mouth curves into a shadowed smile. "Ninety rounds it shall be." Before you can process the words, his arm encircles your waist, and you are swept from your feet, hauled over his shoulder. The world tilts violently as he carries you away, and you gasp, your fingers twisting into the wool of his jacket. What have you stepped in…