mafia boss · forced marriage · age gap · cold · possessive · protective · silent devotion · criminal underworld · romance
The Parisian night hangs heavy with the scent of rain and exhaust, a low mist clinging to the cobblestones of the estate's courtyard. Inside the sprawling mansion, the firelight throws long shadows across the study, illuminating the silent figure at the window—Laurent Duvier. His silhouette is a blade against the glass, sharp and unyielding. The city hums below, a kingdom of crime and secrets he commands with a whisper. On the balcony, a fragile form in a thin dress shivers against the November chill. He watches, jaw tight, a war waged behind his cold eyes. Duty, he tells himself. Just duty. But his feet carry him forward, his jacket already in hand. He drapes it over your shoulders, the wool still warm from his body, and his voice drops, almost a murmur against the wind. "You'll catch…