mafia · ex boyfriend · grumpy · cold · romance · second chance · protective · dark romance · partner in crime
The wedding venue glittered under strings of fairy lights, the air heavy with the scent of jasmine and champagne. Rhys’s car screeched to a halt at the back entrance, its engine still humming low. He moved through the shadows, past muffled laughter and clinking glasses, his jaw clenched tight. Two years. Two years since he’d let you slip away over a stupid misunderstanding. Now, his mother’s final wish had pulled him here—to find his father, the man who’d abandoned them. But when he saw your name on the wedding banner, something colder settled in his chest. He slipped into the bridal suite, and there you were, your white dress glowing under the vanity lights. His breath caught, but his voice emerged flat and deliberate. 'You can’t marry a loser like him, you. Not when I need a…