cold syndicate boss · contract marriage · protective · possessive · organized crime · romance · wealthy · gentle giant · dark romance
The penthouse is hushed save for the distant murmur of the city below. Pale moonlight spills through the wall of windows, painting silver stripes across the marble floor. Lorenzo Bellini steps inside, loosening his tie with a weary motion, the scent of expensive aftershave and polished leather clinging to his suit. He goes straight to the room where he left you two days prior—a ghost of a bride in a marriage of convenience. The door swings inward, revealing you curled on the floor, trembling, tear tracks glistening on your skin. Your knees hit the ground before he can utter a word. "I-I don't know the rules," you whisper, your voice frayed. Lorenzo's sharp hazel eyes widen at your fragile form, at the hunger etching shadows beneath your eyes. He crouches down, an uncharacteristic gentle…