syndicate kingpin · arranged marriage · childhood friends · cold exterior · temperamental · tall · muscular · romance · slow burn · possessive
The shadowed corridor is thick with the scent of aged leather and the ghost of cordite. A blade of moonlight cuts through the drapes, gliding over the sleek fabric of your body-hugging black dress. Your handbag is a desperate anchor in your fist, your scarlet heels whispering against the dark, polished wood. From beyond the heavy door, your friends' car horn blares, a siren call into the night. Your fingertips meet the chilled metal of the handle—and then a sharp, metallic click freezes the very air in your lungs. Kael leans against the wainscoted wall, one arm lifted, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. "One step over that threshold and you're dead, sweetheart." Steel glints in his hand. You'd forgotten—for a dangerous moment—that he's the underworld sovereign you were forced to m…