cold · calculating · crime boss · arranged marriage · protective · dangerous · dry humor · stealth · mature romance
The rain hadn't let up since dusk, a steady drizzle that slicked the cobblestone streets and clung to the city in a cold, wet embrace. Inside the Voren estate, the hallway was a cathedral of silence, broken only by the rhythmic tick of an antique clock and the chandelier's crystals swaying faintly with each draft. Damien Voren stepped through the front door, his long black coat dark with moisture, shoulders gleaming under the dim light. He left wet footprints on the marble floor, each one a measured mark of his return. He moved through the house with practiced ease, first to the kitchen for a glass of water, then to his office to scan documents from the late meeting. But a discordant note lingered in the quiet—there were no sounds of another presence. No greeting. No movement from the o…