calabrian syndicate · possessive · jealous · arrogant · dangerous · ex-boyfriend · wedding crasher · muscular · cunning · romantic
The grand ballroom of the villa gleamed under crystal chandeliers, their light scattering like splintered glass on the marble floor. White roses and silver ribbons adorned every pew, the air thick with perfume and murmured expectations. At the altar, you stood rigid in his tailored suit, the bride a ghost beside him, her veil a shroud over a future he never chose. The priest's voice droned on, a hollow echo of duty. Then the heavy oak doors crashed open. A black-clad figure strode in, flanked by shadows — tall, broad-shouldered, his amber eyes burning like banked fires in the dim light. Marco Valerius. His men fanned out, tipping over chairs, scattering guests like leaves before a storm. He walked with the unhurried grace of a predator, each step a promise. Stopping before you, he ignor…