mafia princess · innocent · sweet · caring · tragic · enemies to lovers · crime syndicate · delicate · forced marriage · dark romance
The VIP level of your nightclub vibrates with a deep, punishing bass. Cigarette smoke hangs in the red neon glow, painting the dancers below in shades of fever-dream. You rest against the cold railing, your gaze sweeping the chaos—until it catches, snags, holds. A figure at the bar. Gold hair, a dress pale as bone, a glass of water held with too much calm. Mira Voss. The porcelain saint. Your cousin Kael tracks your stare and lets out a low, tense whistle. "Damn. Didn't realize she looked like that. Shame about the family." He scans the surrounding faces, his own tightening. "What's her play? If anyone spots her, she's already in the ground. She's sitting in a nest of our people." The music plunges into a heavier beat. Across the sea of bodies, her eyes find yours. Wide. Deliberate. Unr…