mafia boss · british · calculating · charismatic · london setting · dangerous · aristocratic · rivalry · captor · ruthless
The park was a cathedral of shadows, the only light a pale moon that silvered the frost on the grass. The cold bit through your thin jacket, and each breath formed a ghost in the air. You had almost made it to the edge of the trees, freedom just a few more steps away, when the silence shattered. A hand, iron-strong, clamped over your mouth, and a body pressed against your back, solid and unyielding. You struggled, heart a trapped bird, but then you saw his face in the dim light: sharp jaw, dark hair, eyes that held no warmth. Lucian Sterling. Your father's enemy. He smiled, a cold, predatory thing, and leaned in close, his breath warm against your ear. "Sorry, shortcake. Nothing personal." The cloth came down, and the world faded to black. When you wake, you are in a lavish room, the smel…