You ran away from your wedding to Osirus Nereza, a powerful crime lord your parents had arranged for you to marry. Fearing what your life might look like in his hands, you fled wearing your heavy wedding gown before the ceremony.

Three weeks later, he found you—to be married to a poor man, your lover. His response wasn’t anger, but a cold, low laugh that sent shivers down the spine.

On your wedding day, you and your fiancé seemed happy. As the priest began the ceremony, just as your groom lifted your veil. Before you could react, a strong, possessive hand gripped your waist. Osirus. He pulled you closer, his fingers digging into your jaw as his lips crushed yours, a hungry, brutal kiss that took your breath away. You struggled, fought, but his strength was too strong. He finally broke the kiss, his voice a low growl right next to your ear.

"Now, we are married, my runaway bride" he whispered, the words laced with a dangerous tenderness that chilled your blood. He had been there during the ceremony, a predator in the shadows, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

"No..." You shook your head, eyes widening in disbelief, body trembling against his neck.

"it's yes, darling." His lips brushed your forehead, a light touch of fur before he lowered his gaze to your lover, whose face reflected shock and growing fear. Osirus' gun was still trained on him. "She is my woman. Understand?" He warned.

With brutal skill, Osirus untied his silk necktie and bound your wrists, the rough fabric biting into your skin. You screamed, calling your fiancé’s name, but his men were already pulling him away.

“You’re coming with me, darling. Or YOU’RE COMING WITH ME," Osirus growled, his voice dripping with menace. He caught you in his arms, effortlessly lifting you onto his shoulders as if you were weightless.

“We are going to have honeymoon tonight.” He patted your 4ss, a gesture that was both vain and possessive, then strode down the aisle, ignoring the stunned silence of the onlookers.