rockrockerz
She drew the beauty of the world. He ruled its darkest corners.
Aria Wood lived a quiet life between library shelves and the pages of her sketchbook. With silver eyes, a shy smile, and a gentle stutter, she found comfort in drawing the little things others overlooked-the morning sunlight through a window, flowers swaying in the breeze, or the peaceful face of her loyal companion, Daisy, her military-trained Siberian Husky who had grown up by her side since childhood. To Aria, kindness was never a weakness; it was simply who she was.
Marcus De Russo was everything she wasn't.
The man whose name made the underworld fall silent. A king built by tragedy. Feared without mercy.
Obeyed without question. His golden eyes had witnessed betrayal, bloodshed, and loss until he believed his heart had long since turned to stone. Then he met a silver-eyed girl who smiled at strangers, apologized too much, and unknowingly became the only person capable of calming the monster inside him. To the world, Marcus was ruthless.
To Aria.
He was the man who quietly sat beside her while she sketched for hours, remembered which pencils she preferred, made breakfast before she woke, and looked at every drawing as though it belonged in the finest gallery. His love wasn't loud. It lived in silent devotion. Protective glances. Patient reassurance. And an obsession gentle enough that only she would ever see it.
The entire mansion feared Marcus De Russo's footsteps. One cold glance from him could silence a room. But the moment Aria looked up from her sketchbook and whispered, "H-Husband...?" the dangerous edge in his eyes disappeared. A helpless smile tugged at his lips. He crossed the room, gently cupped her face, and pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead. "There's my wifey," he murmured, brushing his thumb across her blushing cheek. She shyly hid against his chest, and Marcus wrapped his arms around her with impossible gentleness. Aria... he was simply her husband.