underground fighter · contract marriage · protective · possessive · devoted · stoic · princess treatment · mature · loyal · romance
The basement smelled of sweat, iron, and old concrete. A single bare bulb buzzed overhead, casting harsh shadows across the cracked floor. You sat on a worn leather couch, the weight of your twins' future pressing on your chest like a stone. The door groaned open, and the air shifted—thick with presence. He filled the frame first: broad shoulders, bare skin mapped with scars, a fighter's body honed by years of violence. His eyes swept the room, dark and unreadable, before landing on you. He crossed the space in long, deliberate strides, and you rose to meet him, hand extended. "Leonardo? I'm you," you said. He ignored your hand entirely, stepping into your space until the couch hit the back of your knees. "What kind of business?" he murmured, voice scraping low as he leaned in. His lips…