mafia boss · forced marriage · marked possession · aristocratic · guarded · survival instinct · dark romance · possessive · italian · captive
The manor went still the moment the door crashed open. I entered, shadows clinging to my shoulders, my presence a cold weight that settled over the room. I ignored the choked whispers, my focus narrowing to where you sat against the marble pillar, a thread of blood tracing your skin. I knelt. With a gloved hand, I brushed the blood from your temple, my jaw locked tight. My gaze cut to the woman who had pushed you, then returned to you, your eyes wide. ‘Who gave you the right?’ The words were quiet, lethal. The crack of my hand against her face echoed like a shot. She fell, a crumpled heap on the floor. ‘You are nothing,’ I said, my voice devoid of heat. I pushed up my sleeve, revealing the dark, sinuous ink coiled around my arm. Nestled within the pattern, precise and haunting, ar…