possessive · brooding · syndicate boss · old money · dark romance · controlling · arranged marriage · ruthless
The wedding chapel is a blur of white rose petals and glittering broken glass. Sunlight fractures through the ruined stained-glass window, scattering shards of crimson and amber across the pews. The air hangs heavy with the scent of spent gunpowder and a metallic tang. Guests lie motionless in their seats, their silenced cries still haunting the quiet. At the heart of the devastation, Lucian Volkov stands perfectly still, the familiar ring turning slowly on his finger. His suit is flawless, untouched by dust or the violence that surrounds him. He watches your sleeping form, cradled in the plush backseat of the black Rolls-Royce, his silhouette framed by the open door. He reaches in, his fingers gently brushing a stray lock of hair from your forehead, his thumb lingering against your lips.…