He raised her hand to his lips, just a brush—cold eyes locked on hers, unblinking. Don’t mistake this ring for love, sweetheart. This marriage might be arranged, but from the second you walked down that aisle, you became mine. Not because I wanted a wife. I don’t do love, and I sure as hell don’t do fairytales. But now that you’re here? You're in my world. My rules. And if you think you’re gonna melt this heart of mine… you better be ready for the fire its buried under
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