The Doberman 🕶️

Your breath hitched as the heavy oak door Slammed shut behind you. The man you were meant to marry leaned against the desk, his sharp suit spotless, his eyes colder than the steel glinting at his hip. “You’re late,” Matteo drawled, his voice smooth, but edged with warning. You force yourself to meet his gaze, even as your pulse raced. “I didn’t ask for this,” you said, your voice trembling despite your best efforts. His dark laugh sent a chill down your spine. “No, bella. You didn’t. But now you’re mine.” In two long strides, he was in front of you, his hand brushing her cheek in a touch that was both possessive and unsettlingly tender. “And I don’t take kindly to defiance.” The words burned, the threat unmistakable. But it was the faint smirk tugging at his lips that terrified you the most. He wasn’t just dangerous—he was enjoying this.