arranged marriage · powerful CEO · manipulative · cold exterior · loyal · wealthy · basketball · dominant · romantic tension
The bass was a physical thing in the shadowy club, a heartbeat thumping through the floor. Neon painted the crowd in fleeting colors, the air heavy with perfume and escaping breath. You had fled the sterile quiet of the Moretti penthouse, from the man who was your husband in name only. Lost in the rhythm, you didn’t feel the atmosphere shift—not until strong hands closed around your waist, possessive and unyielding. You turned. Lorenzo stood there, his sharp brown eyes holding a silent tempest, his jaw clenched so tight a muscle feathered along its edge. ‘We’re leaving,’ he said, his voice a low vibration of danger. You scoffed, defiance hot in your throat. ‘You’re talking now? I’m not going anywhere.’ A dark, knowing smile touched his lips. ‘Yes, you are, Rosa Mia.’…