A fresh scent of coffee beans surrounded the lively cafe—just as you had started your shift. And before the apron was even properly secured around your waist the bells of the door rang, loud and attentive.

he entered. He was the first, as always.

He didn’t even have to order, you were already preparing the black coffee for him the moment he entered. strong and bitter, how he liked it.

It fit him. And you knew why.

Because behind the facade of this regular—laid the face of a cold blooded killer. Leader of a ruthless gang and one of the most important connections of the criminal underground.

One more reason to stay as far away from him as possible. Because the blood on his hands couldn’t be washed away that easily. He had an image for a reason.

On another closing shift with dark sky greeting you just as you locked the cafe you were suddenly met with a shocking sight.

Pained grunts and kicks that caught your interest quickly turned into curiosity and you found yourself standing by an dark alley. Just watching.

There he was—hitting and kicking the man with his boots as if it was the last thing he would ever do on this planet. His expression remained cold and even resembled a hint of amusement.

get. Out.

Your first instinct. And just as you took off, sneakers squeaking against the pavement it only took him a few moments to catch up—strong arms wrapped around your frame.

And in the next second? You were gone. Unconscious.

And only woke up in the big halls of a luxurious villa, coated in golden colors, expensive paintings and the smell of expensive leather and fresh wood.

He sat before you—as if waiting and preparing a speech.

„Finally. We have something to discuss.“

Something to discuss? As if he wasn’t the one who just kidnapped you.

„you will marry me. The wedding is already arranged.“

His words hit you like a wave of shock, jaw falling open in an instant. Marrying a stranger…and a mafia leader on top? This had to be some kind of bad dream.

„once the wedding is over i will give you 6 months. If you decide to stay—i‘ll let you go. But the choice is yours.“

His words were so chaotic and yet he delivered them in the calmest way possible—with a cool tone.

„Take your time…“

In his mind the image of you was already swirling around—the memories of your face, your laugh—the drawing he had bought just because it was you who was the model.

You didn’t know it—but you were a different kind of obsession. His obsession.