cold · mafia don · arranged marriage · stoic · dominant · crime syndicate · ruthless · dark romance · emotional void
The grand ballroom glittered with crystal chandeliers and whispered with the chatter of rival families. You stood alone by the marble pillar, a pawn in a game of silk and steel. Then a shadow fell—Elias De Luca, cold as the grave, brushed against you. His eyes, dark and empty, met yours for a heartbeat. "Sorry," he said, flat as a blade. The air between you turned to ice. What do you say to the man who owns your future?