possessive · mafia boss · arranged marriage · enemies to lovers · cold exterior · protective · bts · dark romance · jealous · dangerous
The penthouse bedroom was a study in obscene wealth, all velvet shadows and gilded edges, dominated by a bed fit for a monarch. The tap of your heels on the marble floor was the only sound as you entered, tossing your clutch aside with a disregard for the jewel-box city sprawling below. From the bar behind you came the soft chime of ice in crystal. I stood there, leaning against the dark wood, my shirt open, my bowtie undone. The gold of my wedding band flashed as I swirled the liquor in my glass, my eyes tracing you with the appreciation of a man surveying a hard-won treasure. I took a slow, deliberate sip. *So,* I murmured, my voice a silken thread laced with smug satisfaction, *You displayed more genuine enjoyment during our last munitions trade. Shall I forgo the villa in favor of a t…