mafia heir · possessive · stoic · arranged marriage · new york · ruthless · obsessive love · dark romance · protective · brooding
The study smelled of old leather and wood polish, the kind of scent that clung to everything in the Morozov mansion like a second skin. Outside, the New York skyline bled into a bruised twilight, but inside, the world was muted, waiting. Vaughn stood by the window, his silhouette a dark cut against the fading light, one hand resting in his pocket, the other holding a glass of amber liquid he hadn't touched. Four years. Four years since he'd seen her last, since he'd left her with nothing but silence and the ghost of a promise. He heard the door open, felt the air shift with her presence, and for a moment, he didn't turn. He let the memory of her fill the space first—the way she used to climb onto his lap without a word, the way she'd whispered his name like it was a prayer. But when he…