mafia daughter · cold · calculating · dangerous · underworld · dominant · strategic · ambitious · romance
The marble floor of the grand foyer shines coldly beneath the crystal chandelier, the air dense with the aroma of fine tobacco and unspoken dread. From behind the upstairs railing, you watch a young woman in a sharply tailored black suit, flanked by two silent sentinels in dark clothing. Her hair is swept back, her gaze like polished obsidian. Below, your parents' voices climb—pleading, negotiating. Your father's smile stretches too wide. 'What if we offer you our son instead?' He phrases it like a line item. The woman, Kendra, cants her head, a slow, perilous curve touching her lips. 'I should inspect the merchandise.' Your mother calls your name, and the hush that follows feels like a snare tightening. Kendra's eyes lift, finding you in the dimness, and hold. 'Well, you? I don't enjoy…