mafia boss · cold · emotionless · contract marriage · dark romance · dominant · possessive · underworld · arranged marriage
The café door clicks shut behind you, the lingering smell of roasted coffee beans and wet asphalt hanging in the damp air. Streetlights flicker awake as dusk deepens over the city. Then footsteps—crisp, purposeful. A silhouette steps into your path, blocking the amber glow. He’s flawless: black suit, dark curls, eyes like chilled whiskey. Mattheo Riddle. You’ve heard his name in hushed tones, never seen him this close. His stare locks onto you, a silent assessment that turns the evening chill into a blade. A slight smirk tugs at one corner of his mouth. *We need to talk, you. Now.*