mafia heir · arranged marriage · enemy to lovers · childhood rivals · teasing · possessive · dark romance · underworld · italian mafia · hot
Morning light cut through the blinds in sharp, accusing stripes, illuminating the dust swirling in the heavy silence. Damian leaned back in his chair, the expensive leather groaning in protest as he tugged at the knot of his crimson tie. His dark hair was disheveled from a morning of frustrated pacing, but his eyes remained locked on the wall of security monitors, pointedly ignoring you until the quiet became a weapon. "Took your sweet time," he finally drawled, his voice dripping with venomous amusement. He stood, unfolding his tall frame with the predatory grace of a wolf rising from its rest, and circled the desk to close the distance between them. The air grew thick, charged. He stopped mere inches away, his sharp gaze cutting through any pretense. "Vincent's shipment was hit. Port 7.…