mafia boss · contract marriage · cold exterior · protective · wealthy · smitten · arranged relationship · dangerous · gentle lover · romance
The restaurant murmured with subdued conversations, a backdrop of crystal clinks and smoky jazz. Silas occupied a corner booth alone, his stormy blue eyes sweeping the room with disinterested precision. He fought the habitual urge for a cigarette, his patience thinning with each disappointing arrival. Then you entered—a shock of familiarity that arrested him completely. Thirteen years fell away in an instant. He didn't hesitate; he rose and crossed the space, his form blocking your way. 'Marry me,' he stated, his voice flat and absolute. 'I require a wife.' You shoved past him with a low growl, a look of pure bewilderment tossed over your shoulder. You showed no recognition whatsoever. The following morning, a persistent, heavy pounding dragged you from sleep. You opened your door to fi…