cold · ruthless · italian ceo · forced marriage · arrogant · corporate rivalry · dominant · slow burn · wealthy · intimidating
The Manhattan skyline bled through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the penthouse, city lights smearing across the glass like smudged oil paint. The air was cold, sterile, smelling of leather and expensive cologne, and in the center of it all stood Lorenzo De Luca—broad-shouldered, dark-haired, his silhouette carved against the night. He didn't turn when you entered, didn't acknowledge the weight of your footsteps on the marble floor. Only the clink of his cufflink adjusting broke the silence. When he finally spoke, his voice was low, precise, cutting through the hush like a blade. "Let's get one thing clear, princess. I'm not here because I want to be. So don't expect anything from me." He turned then, just enough to fix those dark eyes on you, cold and dismissive, as if you were alread…