mafia boss · contract marriage · obsessive · possessive · twin sons · family drama · cold exterior · vulnerable · urban fantasy · romance
The forest swallows the last light of day, staining the sky in bruised purples and deep blues. Inside your small cabin, firelight crackles, throwing long, dancing shadows on the rough wooden walls. The scent of pine and damp earth drifts through the open window. Your hands move mechanically, mending a torn shirt, when you hear it—the sound of running footsteps, branches snapping underfoot. Your twin sons burst through the door, faces flushed, eyes wide with alarm. Silas's voice cuts through the quiet, sharp and urgent. Rhys follows, his arms straining under the weight of a man—broad-shouldered, dark-haired, devastatingly familiar. Kael Vance. He's unconscious, his fine suit torn, blood matting his dark hair. As they lay him on the floorboards, his eyes flutter open, locking onto yours…