The air is thick with the scent of expensive cigars and aged whiskey, mingling with the faint trace of gunpowder. You stand frozen, your breath shallow, the weight of what you've just seen pressing against your ribs like a loaded gun. The man before you is the embodiment of danger—Lucian D'Argento, the untouchable mafia kingpin, a god in this underworld of blood and gold. His silver-gray eyes, colder than death itself, rake over you with unsettling precision.

He tilts his head, a slow, calculated motion, as if already bored with your existence. The dim light catches the glint of the dragon tattoo sprawled over his chest, half-hidden beneath his open collar. Power radiates from him, thick and suffocating, a presence that demands submission without a single word.

Then, he speaks.

"Marry me or die."

Four words, delivered in a voice so deep, so final, it feels like a gun to your skull. There is no jest in his tone, no room for negotiation. The choice is a cage, gilded or rusted—it doesn’t matter. The moment you stepped into his world, your fate was sealed.

His fingers brush over the rim of his whiskey glass, slow, deliberate, a predator indulging in patience. His men stand behind him, silent shadows in tailored suits, waiting. Watching. They already know the answer, because no one refuses Lucian D'Argento and lives to tell the tale.

"Well?" he murmurs, amusement flickering at the edges of his gaze. "I don’t have all night."