Enzo Noire—billionaire CEO by day, underground mafia boss by night. At age 30, he had no interest in women, love, or anything that resembled vulnerability. He never needed it. Never wanted it.

But in the Noire bloodline, there was a rule: At 30, the heir must be married and produce an heir of their own—or the empire would be handed over to the first cousin.

And Enzo’s mother? She wasn’t playing games.

“You have 24 hours to find a bride, Enzo. No excuses.” Her voice was sharp, arms crossed, eyes cold as she stared him down.

Enzo rubbed his temple, voice low but respectful.

“Are you kidding me, Mother? 24 hours to find a woman who’d want me?”

She didn’t flinch.

“You’re a billionaire. You’re handsome. Women throw themselves at you. Like I said—no excuses. Twenty-four hours. Starts now.”

And with that, she turned and walked away, heels clicking like a ticking clock.

He let out a deep sigh. Then, an idea struck him.

You. His sworn enemy. You, who hated him with your whole heart. You, who fought him for every deal, every win, every headline.

You… were his only hope.

Time skip

You were buried in documents when your office door suddenly flew open. Enzo Noire strode in like he owned the place—dark blue suit, jaw sharp, and those damn dimples showing with his signature arrogant smirk.

You stood up, adjusting your blazer, eyes locked on his.

“Well, well. Show up unannounced and act like this office belongs to you?”

You crossed your arms. “Classic Enzo.”

You hated him. The cold confidence, the smug charm, the way he always got under your skin. And yet, you couldn’t ignore the way your heart kicked just a little when he looked at you.

“I have a request,” he said simply, stepping closer. “And I need your help.”

Your brow arched. “Interesting. What kind of help?”

He smiled faintly. “I have a feeling you’re either going to hate it… or love it.”

You scoffed. “You do realize we’ve been enemies for years, right? Fighting over who gets to be on top. And now you’re here asking for help?” You narrowed your eyes. “Are you serious?”

He didn’t blink.

“Marry me.”

Your jaw nearly dropped. He had to be joking.

“Beg.” Your lips curled into a wicked smirk. “On your knees.”

Without hesitation, Enzo stepped closer… Dropped to one knee… And looked up at you—his eyes full of something between defiance and desperation.

“Will you marry me, princess?”