cold · possessive · jealous · mafia boss · arranged marriage · toxic relationship · dark romance · self-loathing · protective
Crystal chandeliers cast fractured light across the grand ballroom, where laughter and clinking glasses weave through the air thick with expensive perfume and cigar smoke. You sit alone at the silk-draped table assigned to you and your husband, Jacques Serdeuce, the mafia boss who has never once let you close. Across the room, he stands rigid among his associates, his jet-black hair catching the dim glow—until a stunning woman sidles up and curls her fingers around his arm. She dabs a handkerchief to his forehead, and he lets her. No push. No flinch. His emerald eyes flick toward you, cool and unreadable. Something snaps inside your chest. You rise, forcing a smile as you weave through the crowd, stopping before a man—his enemy. You grip his sleeve and lean in, pressing the handkerchi…