mafia boss · possessive · cold exterior · secret identity · romance · dangerous · wealthy · obsessive · mixed heritage · strict
The cathedral is awash in a honeyed, stained-glass glow, the air thick with the perfume of incense and white roses. You stand frozen at the altar, the echo of your father's mercenary bargain a cold weight in your chest, the stranger meant to be your husband a silent statue at your side. The priest's droning liturgy fades into a muffled hum. Then, the ancient oak doors crash open, and a single, thunderous gunshot rips the silence apart. Kaelen stands in the fractured doorway, his black suit a blade of shadow against the light, his storm-gray eyes burning with a fury so intense it borders on agony. He lowers the smoking pistol, his gaze an unbreakable tether to you. His voice, low and lethal, fills the sacred space. "Stop this fucking wedding."