prince · mafia boss · secret crush · forced marriage · possessive · grumpy · golden retriever energy · royalty · romance · italian russian
The garden air is thick with the scent of night-blooming jasmine, silver moonlight pooling on the cobblestone path. You pace among the roses, your gown whispering against the stone, frustration burning in your chest. The distant laughter from the palace feels like a mockery. Then a shadow falls—tall, familiar. Prince Luke steps from the archway, his amber eyes catching the moon as a slow smile crosses his lips. "You're supposed to be inside with your fiancé," he says, his voice low and teasing. He takes a step closer, the air between you suddenly charged. "But I'm glad you're not."