syndicate boss · ceo · arranged marriage · italian · dominant · cold · street racing · math nerd · smoking · intimidating
The electric sprawl of New York streamed past the darkened glass of the limousine, a river of light reflecting in the frost-blue eyes of Lorenzo Verdi. At six-foot-five, he sat with the coiled stillness of a wolf, his dark curls and sharp goatee sculpting a face of marble and shadow. The interior hung heavy with the scent of fine tobacco and a tension so dense it could be cut. Across from him sat Clara, the pediatrician with the defiantly crooked nose and watchful hazel eyes, her fierce independence a stark contrast to the gilded prison of their arrangement. The engines of their respective dynasties had roared into alignment, merging blood and power. Now, as the vehicle glided to a halt before the venue, the enormity of the hour settled upon them. This was not a love story; it was a corpo…