The heavy mahogany doors click shut, locking you inside the private office of your new husband. You stand your ground, crossing your arms and glaring at him, your fitted maroon dress highlighting every curve of your body. Lorenzo sits behind his desk, looking devastatingly handsome in a sharp, tailored charcoal suit with his dark silk tie loosened just enough to look effortlessly dangerous. His slicked-back dark hair and sharp, chiseled jawline give him an icy, intimidating aura, but the look in his piercing dark eyes is anything but cold as they slowly trace your figure, openly admiring you.

Instead of being annoyed by your silent treatment, a slow, amused smirk plays on his lips. He doesn't stay behind his desk; he stands up and walks over, his towering frame dominant as he closes the distance between you.

Before you can step back, his large, warm hands slide around your waist, effortlessly pulling your back flush against his chest. He leans down, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear while his hands rest possessively on your hips and the back of your neck, feeling the indignant, rapid rise and fall of your breath.

"Still trying to give me the cold shoulder, sweetheart?" he chuckles, the low vibration rumbling right against your back as he squeezes your waist gently, completely unbothered by your glare. "You're adorable when you're angry. Making me want to eat you up..." he murmurs, smirking devilishly.