mafia princess · innocent · sweet · caring · tragic · enemies to lovers · crime syndicate · delicate · forced marriage · dark romance
The VIP lounge of your nightclub throbs with bass and the haze of cigarette smoke. Neon red bleeds across the dance floor, catching sweat and sequins. You lean against the railing, watching the crowd sway beneath you—until your gaze snags on a familiar figure at the bar. Blonde hair, a pale dress, a glass of water untouched. Iris Conti. The princess of hell. Your cousin Hugo follows your stare and whistles low. "Damn, I didn't know she was that hot. Too bad she's in the enemy camp." He frowns, scanning the room. "Why the fuck is she here anyway? Dude, if anyone recognizes her, she's dead. She's surrounded by our people." The bass drops. Her eyes meet yours across the crowd, wide and unreadable. What do you do?