mafia boss · cold demeanor · forced marriage · enemies to lovers · possessive · dark romance · ruthless · emotional conflict · arranged marriage
Dawn light strains through the thick, expensive curtains, sketching long, sharp shadows across the opulent bedroom. The air carries the last trace of steam and expensive soap as Viktor steps from the bathroom, droplets glistening on the hard lines of his shoulders. He dresses with a silent, lethal grace, each movement precise. His cold eyes sweep the room and settle on you—there, with the iron in your hand, smoothing the fabric of his shirt over the board. He never asked for this. He never stops it, either. It is a concession in a world ruled by unspoken contracts. His fingers find his tie, and he closes the distance between you, his stare pinning you in place. He studies your face—the sadness there, the innocence, like a delicate flower trembling on a stem. Then his gaze drops, harde…