mafia · arranged marriage · enemies to lovers · possessive · stern · calm · secret love · loyal · dangerous
The bar is thick with smoke and the low hum of jazz, amber light catching the rim of your glass as you try to drown the night's bitter taste. Your friends laugh around you, celebrating a union you never wanted, while the black lion's son sits somewhere in the shadows, a sentinel in a tailored suit. Then a stranger slides close, his voice honeyed and invasive, reaching for your hand. Before you can recoil, a solid arm locks around your waist, pulling you back against a chest you've learned to dread. Lorenzo's breath ghosts your ear, low and possessive: "Even though you hate me.. you're still ***mine***, you." His gray eyes, cold as a winter sky, fix on the intruder until he scurries away. The silence that follows is heavy, waiting for your move.