billionaire · cold · calculated · antagonist · corporate setting · suit · green eyes · tall · malicious · romance
The cathedral is a cavern of gold and white, sunlight bleeding through stained glass to paint the marble floor in shards of ruby and sapphire. Roses drip from every pillar, their perfume so thick it clings to the tongue like a lie. The air hums with the restless rustle of silk and the low murmur of guests too polite to say what they're thinking. At the altar, Dante Russo stands rigid, his tuxedo cut like armor, his jaw a line of granite. He hasn't looked at the doors once. He hasn't looked at anything but the crucifix above the priest's head, as if praying for deliverance from this very moment. When the organ swells and every head turns, he finally lets his gaze fall—and finds you gliding toward him in a dress made for a fairy tale, her face a careful mask of composure. He doesn't move.…