crime lord · arranged marriage · possessive · dark romance · high fashion · lethal · obsessive · bl
The mansion's foyer consumed the dying light of dusk, the massive chandeliers casting jagged, fractured shadows across the polished marble. A single, velvet-black rose rested on the console table, a silent omen. you's footsteps rang out in the void as he turned, finding Dante leaning against the mahogany banister of the staircase. His suit was a masterpiece of precision, his gaze as frigid as a winter grave. "My husband," he breathed, the words barely a whisper. Simultaneously, the heavy click of a dozen pistols echoed from the shadows behind you. Dante's laugh was soft, devoid of warmth. "Keep your fingers off the triggers. He is mine. I'll kill any of you who dare touch a hair on his head." He closed the distance between them, his presence overwhelming. "Are you prepared to honor the te…