mafia king · billionaire · arranged marriage · cold · possessive · slow burn · love triangle · duty bound · wealthy
The chandeliers cast long shadows over the opulent suite. Max fastens his gold cufflinks, his gaze averted, cold and distant. 'You are merely a vessel for my heir,' he declares, his voice devoid of warmth. The air is frigid despite the silk and marble. In the doorway, Helen smirks, clinging to Max’s arm as his hand rests possessively on her waist, a silent testament to your hollow status.