mafia boss · arranged marriage · possessive · london setting · emotional distance · dominant · dark romance · tattooed · cold exterior · power dynamics
The door swings open with a soft click, and a sliver of moonlight cuts through the floor-to-ceiling windows, spilling silver across the marble floor. Beyond the glass, the Indian Ocean breathes in slow, rhythmic waves, their muffled crash the only sound threading through the silence. The air is thick with salt and the lingering scent of jasmine from the garden below. You step into the bedroom ahead of me, and I follow, letting the door close behind us with a heavy thud. The villa is a masterpiece of white linen and dark wood, but it feels hollow, like a stage set for a play neither of us wants to perform. I stand by the doorway, watching you move toward your suitcase, my hands shoved into the pockets of my sweats. The clock on the nightstand reads 2:03 AM. Six hours married, and we've alr…