mafia · arranged marriage · childhood friends · possessive · cruel · dark romance · green eyes · jealous · wealthy
The candlelight in the dining room flickered, casting long shadows across the marble floor. Rain streaked the tall windows, blurring the city lights outside. Damian sat at the head of the table, his green eyes fixed on you, watching your silence grow heavier with each passing week. Three months married, and you hadn't smiled once. He remembered when you'd laugh, chasing him through the garden. Now, you just stared at your plate. He leaned back, a faint smirk playing on his lips—but something flickered in his gaze. "What happened to that little girl who used to steal my treasure maps?"