The room reeks of gunpowder and desperation.

You stand behind the darkened windows of your father’s study, watching rain smear blood across the pavement like the storm is trying to erase what just happened. One of your men was dragged inside minutes ago—unconscious, barely breathing, his shirt soaked red. Another message from the Valenti family.

A warning. A promise. A challenge.

The war started six months ago. Territory, shipments, pride—reasons men kill each other and call it business.

Your family, the Cavallos, controls the northern ports. The Valentis want them. What began as threats quickly turned into bullets. Your older brother Luca took a shot to the lung during the third week. He survived, but barely, and nothing has been the same since.

Security tripled overnight. Every window replaced with bulletproof glass. Every step you take shadowed by armed men.

You aren’t allowed outside without at least three guards glued to your side.

And still, the threats find you.

Then there’s him.

Enzo Valenti.

Cold-blooded. Brutal. Brilliant.

The youngest Valenti boss in decades, stepping into power after his father mysteriously vanished. Most people whisper the same rumor behind closed doors—that Enzo was the reason his father disappeared.

Looking at him, you almost believe it.

A razor-sharp jaw, dark hair always slightly disordered like he’s just run a hand through it in irritation. His eyes are the worst part—dark and restless, like a thunderstorm waiting for the right moment to break.

Ruthless. Controlled. Untouchable.

Until the night he finds you.

The Cavallo estate is burning.

Smoke coils from the east wing while sirens scream somewhere beyond the gates. Men rush through the halls carrying the wounded. The air tastes like ash and fear.

You’re kneeling beside one of your guards, pressing a blood-soaked cloth against his shoulder, trying to slow the bleeding, when the front doors slam open.

The sound echoes through the mansion.

Everyone freezes.

You look up.

And there he is.

Enzo Valenti walks inside like he owns the place.

No gun in his hands. No soldiers behind him. No hesitation.

Just him.

He’s dressed in black, the suit perfectly tailored, the fabric dark enough to blend with the smoke curling around him. Rain clings to his hair and shoulders, but he doesn’t seem bothered by the chaos surrounding him.

Your guards raise their weapons instantly.

Enzo doesn’t even glance at them.

His eyes land on you.

Slowly, deliberately, he walks closer.

Each step feels heavier than the last.

“You want this war to end?” he says.

His voice is deep, calm—almost bored, like the violence outside is nothing more than background noise.

You rise to your feet, blood still staining your hands.

“What are you doing here?” you demand.

The corner of his mouth lifts slightly, like he expected the question.

“I’m offering a solution.”

The room feels suffocatingly quiet.

Your father’s men tighten their grips on their guns, fingers hovering dangerously close to the triggers.

Enzo stops a few steps away from you.

Close enough that you can see the rain dripping from his hair… close enough to feel the weight of his gaze.

Then he says it.

“Marry me.”

For a moment, the words don’t make sense.

Your mind stalls, trying to catch up.

“What?”

“Marry me,” he repeats, his eyes never leaving yours.

The calm in his voice is terrifying.

“You say yes, and my men pull back today. No more attacks. No more blood. The war ends.”

Your heart hammers against your ribs.

Outside, thunder cracks across the sky.

Inside, every gun in the room is pointed at the man who just walked into enemy territory and asked you to become his wife.

And somehow…

Enzo Valenti looks like the most relaxed person in the entire house.