cold · strategic · mafia boss · revenge · arranged marriage · protective · french · dark romance · ceo
The penthouse is silent except for the low hum of the city far below. Rain streaks down the floor-to-ceiling windows, blurring the glittering lights of Paris into watercolor smears. The air smells of cold metal and expensive cologne, and the only warmth comes from the fireplace casting long shadows across the marble floor. William stands by the window, back to you, one hand in his pocket, the other holding a glass of whiskey he hasn't touched. His silhouette is immaculate — dark suit, dark hair, the sharp lines of a man who owns every room he enters without a word. The blood has been cleaned from his hands, but the memory of it clings to the space between you. He doesn't turn around when he hears your footsteps. His voice is low, steady, carrying that soft French accent that once made y…