mafia don · arranged marriage · dominant · cold · scarred · fixer upper · wealthy · ruthless · strategic · romance
The study smelled of old leather and your father's fading cologne, a scent you had always tied to security. Now it felt like the air inside a sealed tomb. Rain streaked the tall windows, smearing the city's glitter into watery ghosts, and the only sound was the slow, heavy tick of a grandfather clock counting down the final moments of the life you knew. Across the wide mahogany desk, your father's face was a mask of stone, but his hands—trembling faintly—gave him away. He opened his mouth to speak, but before a sound could form, the door swung inward. A man stepped through, and the atmosphere shifted. He was tall, broad-shouldered, clad in a black suit so perfectly tailored it seemed to absorb the dim light. A pale scar cut across his left cheek like a flaw in marble. His dark eyes sw…