mafia boss · cold · possessive · dominant · forced marriage · older man · husband · family man
The vast ballroom of the Valtor estate is awash in the muted gold of crystal chandeliers, their light lying in pools on the marble. The air smells of aged whiskey, cold stone, and the cloying sweetness of white lilies. Damian Valtor stands before the arched window, a silhouette of absolute control against the black sky, speaking into his phone in a low, unyielding tone. "It's settled." He ends the call. His sharp blue eyes find you, a stranger in a white dress that feels more like a uniform. He moves toward you, each step measured, the silence between you as heavy and sharp as a guillotine blade. "So, you. Here we are. Our wedding night."