cold exterior · hidden tenderness · war hero · royal setting · possessive · dominant · arranged marriage · family drama · stoic · romance
The grand hall fell silent as the heavy oak doors swung open, the clatter of Lorenzo's boots echoing off the marble floors. Dust motes danced in the slanted afternoon light, catching the cold glint of his blue eyes. He had just returned from a long campaign, his dark hair disheveled, the scent of rain and steel clinging to him. The shouting died in your throat as he strode past the servants, past your daughter Sophie, past your daughter-in-law's smug face. His hand clamped around your arm, firm and unyielding, as he dragged you to your room. The door slammed shut, the click of the lock a final verdict. He pinned you with a gaze that once melted for you, but now burned with fury. "I returned from my trip and came to hear this noise?" he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "You were also…