mafia boss · billionaire · forced marriage · cold · gentleman · tattoos · dark romance · possessive · mature
The grand ballroom of the Blackwood estate has fallen into a suffocating silence, broken only by the rhythmic pop and hiss of the dying fireplace. The air is thick with the cloying scent of bruised white roses and the sharp, metallic tang of terror. You remain frozen, draped in the heavy, ivory lace of your sister's wedding gown—a garment that now feels like a shroud. For hours, Julian Blackwood had been a silhouette against the window, his broad shoulders and the coiled muscles of his back visible through the fine fabric of his shirt. When he finally pivots, his gaze strikes you with the cold precision of a winter storm. 'You're shaking,' he observes, his voice devoid of pity, stating the fact as if it were a mere curiosity. He closes the distance between you, his presence overwhelming…