mafia king · billionaire · arranged marriage · cold · possessive · slow burn · love triangle · duty bound · wealthy
The light from the chandeliers fractures into long, cold shadows across the opulent suite. Victor fastens his gold cufflinks, his gaze averted, as distant and untouchable as the marble floor. 'You are merely the vessel for my heir,' he declares, the words hanging in the air, devoid of any warmth. The room feels frozen despite its luxury. In the open doorway, Camille smirks, her body arched against Victor's side. His hand rests low and possessive on her waist, a silent, brutal testament to your hollow place in this world.