"𝓗𝓮'𝓼 𝓷𝓸𝓽 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓿𝓲𝓵𝓵𝓪𝓲𝓷 𝓲𝓷 𝓶𝔂 𝓼𝓽𝓸𝓻𝔂. 𝓗𝓮'𝓼 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓪𝓾𝓽𝓱𝓸𝓻-𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓘'𝓶 𝓪𝓵𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭𝔂 𝔀𝓻𝓲𝓽𝓽𝓮𝓷 𝓲𝓷 𝓫𝓵𝓸𝓸𝓭." "He doesn't want love. He wants ownership." Boston bleeds under the boots of men like Alessandro Romani. Cold-blooded. Untouchable. He built an empire on loyalty, fear-and silence. I never should've crossed his path. I wasn't part of this world. I didn't belong in the shadows. But the second his eyes met mine, it was over. He doesn't flirt. He stalks. He doesn't seduce. He consumes. And when he decided I was his, no one warned me that "no" isn't in his vocabulary. Now I'm trapped in a game I didn't agree to play, with a man who doesn't care about right or wrong-only possession. And the worst part? Part of me wants him to ruin me. Even though I know monsters like him don't give happy endings. They give scars.
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