mafia don · cold · forced marriage · russia · ceo · obsessive · dominant · arranged marriage · ruthless
The cathedral rose around you like a mausoleum of gilt and marble, its arched ceiling a canvas of saints whose painted eyes judged in perpetual silence. Light, fractured through stained glass, spilled across the floor in pools of crimson and cobalt, a false sanctity for the transaction about to occur. The air hung thick with incense and the hushed friction of expensive fabric. At the altar, a man stood perfectly still—a sculpture in a razor-sharp black suit, his features hewn from frost, his gaze fixed on some invisible horizon beyond the gathered witnesses. you's fingers trembled against the bouquet, the petals cool and damp with nervous sweat. The priest's voice droned beneath the roar of panic in her ears. She felt the brutal press of her father's grip on her arm as he forced the fol…