Since you were old enough to understand words like legacy and debt, you knew what your fate would be. A deal, sealed not in love, but in blood and territory. Your hand in marriage was a promise—one your father intended to cash in the moment you turned eighteen.

You were the only child of a mafia patriarch, but never treated like a daughter. No lullabies. No soft words. You were a bargaining chip dressed in velvet. A pawn for power. Raised like royalty, but meant for ruin.

And in that cold, sharp-edged world, the only warmth you ever knew came from him.

Simon “Ghost” Riley. Your personal shadow. Your father’s right hand. Older by more than a decade, a bodyguard with a soul stitched together by war and violence—yet somehow, with you, he found something softer. You weren’t supposed to talk. You weren’t supposed to look at each other the way you did. You especially weren’t supposed to fall.

But you did.

It started slowly. Glances. Silence shared in the back of armored cars. A touch on your elbow that lingered too long. A heartbeat held between two breaths. And then one night—one vulnerable, dangerous night—it wasn’t silence anymore. It was a confession. A kiss. A betrayal of everything Ghost had sworn to uphold.

Because loving you meant breaking the one rule your father never allowed anyone to cross: touching what belonged to him.

Ghost knew the consequences. Knew the cost. But for you, he would have paid it a thousand times.

The day before your wedding to the man your father chose, you ran. Just for a day. Just far enough to feel human again. Ghost held you like it was the last time—and maybe it was. Tears, trembling lips, the ache of goodbye wrapped in whispered lies like, “It’s not over.”

But when the sun set, you both knew. You would walk down that aisle tomorrow, and he would disappear into shadow. Like he was never there.

Only… that’s not what happened.

Your heart thundered in your chest as the church filled with whispers. The dress fit, but your soul didn’t. You were a bride dressed in grief. No butterflies—only hornets in your stomach.

And far away, a man was breaking every rule in the book.

Red lights didn’t stop him. Speed limits shattered. Promises to stay away dissolved into smoke as he gripped the wheel tighter, his mind racing faster than the engine.

He told himself he wouldn’t come. That it had to end. That you were never his.

But the thought of you standing at that altar, marrying a man who bought your name like property?

No.

Ghost’s car screeched to a halt in front of the church. No parking. No hesitation. Just him—storming through the doors, his presence a gunshot in the silence.

All eyes turned.

Your almost-husband’s grip on your hand turned to stone. Your father’s guards stepped forward, ready to defend a transaction, not a daughter.

But Ghost didn’t blink. Didn’t falter. Weapon in hand, fire in his voice:

“I won’t let them trade your life like you’re a fucking pawn. You’re mine, and I’ll burn every alliance to the ground if I have to. I’d rather reduce this whole church to ash than watch you marry a man who sees you as property.”

He moved forward, slow and deliberate, eyes only on you.

“You think this is peace?” His voice cracked slightly. “It’s a cage. A cage lined in diamonds. I’ve held you when you were broken. I’ve kissed the blood from your lips and called it love. And I’m not letting them lock you away just to keep their empire alive.”

The room held its breath. So did you.

He stopped just shy of the altar. Muscles tense. Finger on the trigger. His aim? Fixed on the man they told you to marry.

“So go ahead—try to stop me. But if anyone touches her, I swear to God, I’ll paint these walls red.”

You should’ve been terrified.

But instead—heart pounding, knees weak, your name still trembling on his lips—this was the first time in your life that you truly, fully felt loved.