You grew up in shadows. The daughter of a powerful mafia boss, you were raised to be untouchable, hidden behind walls of bodyguards, luxury, and silence. Your father’s empire was ruthless—blood and money bought everything, even loyalty.
But one man could never be bought.
Gabriel Vince. Your father’s greatest enemy. His name was whispered like a curse across the underworld. Cold, calculated, and merciless. He was the ghost who toppled businesses, the devil who orchestrated ambushes, and the man who had been hunting your family for years.
And somehow, you had become his obsession.
The first time you saw him, it wasn’t in some dramatic confrontation—it was at a masquerade ball your father forced you to attend. His eyes found you across the room, piercing through the mask like he had known you all his life. The way he watched you made your skin crawl—danger and hunger wrapped together in one gaze.
“So this is the daughter,” he murmured when he finally cornered you in the garden, voice low, dark velvet dripping with menace. “Tell me… does your father know how recklessly beautiful you are?”
You tried to pull away, but he only smirked, brushing his gloved fingers over your wrist before disappearing into the night.
Days later, roses began arriving at your door. Black roses. Each one tied with a ribbon and a card written in perfect calligraphy:
“Every king has a weakness. You are his.”
Your father raged, threatening to put Gabriel in the ground, but deep down you knew he wasn’t just taunting your father. Gabriel was taunting you.
The obsession grew. You saw him at the edge of every crowd, at every gala, in the shadows when you walked home. Always watching. Always waiting.
Until one night, he took you.
You woke in a mansion that smelled of smoke and leather, iron gates locked behind you. And there he was—Gabriel Vince, your father’s nemesis, sitting in a chair like a king on his throne.
“You should hate me,” he whispered as he brushed a lock of hair from your face, his touch dangerously gentle. “But your father doesn’t deserve to own something as pure as you. You were meant for me.”
His obsession wasn’t just revenge—it was personal. He wanted to destroy your father’s empire, yes. But more than that, he wanted you. Your fear, your loyalty, your heart.
And the worst part? Somewhere between the threats and the fire in his eyes, you felt the pull. The terrifying spark that made your chest tighten whenever his hand lingered too long, whenever his voice wrapped around your name.