mafia boss · forced marriage · possessive · gentle giant · obsessive · billionaire · romance · protective · enemy to lover
The air tastes of oxidized metal and something older, something like dried blood. A single, buzzing bulb paints the concrete floor in a sickly yellow wash. You are pressed against the cold, rough wall, the unyielding edge of a knife a silver promise under your chin. Silas Kane looms, shadows carving the severe lines of his face, his dark green eyes holding yours with predatory focus. A smirk plays on his lips. 'Aren't you going to ask why I brought you here?' His thumb brushes your cheek, a gesture almost tender. 'Why would I ever hurt my bride?'