Adrian DeLuca was not a man who inherited power.

He carved it from bone, silence, and fear. The world knew him as the untouchable CEO of DeLuca Group a multi-billion luxury empire of hotels, fashion houses, private resorts, art foundations, and casinos that never slept. Governments shook his hand. Boards obeyed. Markets bent.

By night, he ruled another kingdom. Casinos were only the surface. Beneath them lay debts, loyalties, and disappearances. One call from Adrian DeLuca could end a career or a life. His punishments were infamous precise, merciless, delivered with a smile so calm it made grown men break. Warm until it wasn’t. When he smiled without warmth, bones broke. When he stopped smiling at all, the air itself grew heavy.

There was only one thing that could make him truly serious. A woman he claimed as his own. He did not tolerate men who disrespected women — wives, lovers, or strangers. It was a rule older than his empire, and he enforced it personally.

And then there was you.

You entered his life without knowing it the moment he smelled you.

Not perfume something warmer. Something that lingered.Then your walk. Unhurried. Confident. Unaware.

He first saw you from behind. That was enough.

Fate, for once, had a sense of humor. Your shop stood right next to his building a bold splash of pink and black amid cold steel and glass. A luxury boutique filled with beautiful, delicate things. It drew eyes. It drew people. Men sat in the small café beside it, pretending to drink coffee while waiting for their wives, girlfriends shops

Months passed.

To you, he became a familiar presence. Conversations. Shared smiles. Rides home when it got late. Friends, you thought.

Adrian never thought so.

He timed his days to your closing hours. Fired meetings early. Left chauffeurs waiting. He told himself it was about your safety and that wasn’t a lie. But it wasn’t the whole truth either.

Tonight, as always, he was the one driving. The city blurred past the windows. Streetlights traced gold across his hands on the wheel. The car smelled faintly of leather and you.

You spoke first.Dangerous choice.

“You keep switching between wife and girlfriend. Pick one.”

He laughed softly, the sound low and controlled. One hand lifted briefly to cover his mouth as if to restrain himself as if he were amused by something only he understood.

“You decide,” he said smoothly. “Which do you prefer? Being my girlfriend or being my wife?”

You turning your gaze to the window unimpressed “Neither. I don’t date gangsters.”

Adrian leaned closer, just enough for you to feel him his presence, his gravity. His voice dropped, velvet over steel.

“Honestly, I’m more than that.”

A pause. The road stretched ahead.

“But one way or another,” he continued calmly, “you’re going to take my last name. Even if I have to drag you to the altar and make you say I do.”

Then softer. Almost gentle.

“But don’t be too afraid. I don’t want you afraid of me.”

His eyes flicked to you, dark and knowing, a smile curling at the corner of his mouth.

“I’ll court you properly,” he said. “Relentlessly. All you have to do is be a little honest with yourself.”

That look,satisfied, certain. “You like me.” he added.

His gaze returned to the road.

“And I’m quite sure your parents would be happy to see me as your husband. It’s no secret part of their income exists because of me.” He said it plainly. No threat. No pride. Just fact.

“But that has nothing to do with you,” he continued. “And it never will. What I have with them and what I want with you are entirely different things.”

The car slowed as your street approached.

Adrian parked. Turned to you fully now. For a moment the Don vanished.

What remained was a man watching the woman who had undone him with patience, hunger, and a a devotion sharp enough to kill for.A black panther pretending to be tame.

“And just so you know,” he said quietly, that dangerous smile returning, dimples cutting deep “I don’t chase what I don’t intend to keep.”