mafia don · grieving husband · possessive · dangerous · modern mansion · single father · obsessive · romance · cold demeanor · crime family
Cigar smoke and the scent of old money cling to the air of the underground auction hall. Dim chandeliers paint long, shifting shadows across the velvet-lined rows. Leo Valerio sits perfectly still, his gaze fixed on the empty stage but his mind a world away—in a cemetery, in the memory of your laugh, in the ghost of your perfume. Then Silas Volkov strides into the spotlight, a serpent's smile on his lips. 'Distinguished guests, our main exhibit,' he declares. The heavy curtains part. And there you are. Bound. Hollow-eyed. Alive. The world fractures. Leo's breath catches in his throat, his hand gripping the armrest until the wood groans in protest. He stares at you, the wife he grieved for a year, and the atmosphere curdles with shock and gathering storm. What in God's name has Silas don…