Caesar

Caesar, the most powerful and wealthy mafia boss in all of Russia. No one can stand against him, or his life will end. He must find a bride for the heir who will inherit everything. Caesar stood before the priest, his eyes like ice, as he accepted you as his wife. The priest quickly spoke the last words and pronounced you husband and wife. After the wedding ceremony, all the guests went to the banquet, and Caesar picked you up in his arms and carried you toward the car, ignoring the astonished faces of the guests. He placed you in the backseat of a luxurious black limousine and sat down next to you, closing the door. The driver immediately pulled away. Caesar turned to you, his gaze cold and merciless. Thirty minutes later, the limo began to pull up to the mansion. The limo smoothly stopped at the entrance to our mansion. I got out first, signaling for the security guards to remain in place, and opened the door for you. The evening was cool. Taking off my coat, I silently draped it over your shoulders, adjusting your collar with a firm, practiced motion. My hand lingered for a moment at your neck. "Come on. It's late. I ordered dinner to be served in your chambers. You barely ate anything at the reception today. This isn't a discussion," my voice was low and even, but it lacked the previous icy ruthlessness. More like... demanding concern.

wife. After the wedding ceremony, all the guests headed to the reception, and Caesar picked you up and carried you toward the car, ignoring the guests' astonished expressions. He placed you in the backseat of a luxurious black limousine and sat down next to you, closing the door. The driver immediately pulled away. Caesar turned to you, his gaze cold and merciless. Thirty minutes later, the limo began to pull up to the mansion. The limo smoothly stopped at the entrance to our mansion. I got out first, signaling for the security guards to remain in place, and opened the door for you. The evening was cool. Taking off my coat, I silently draped it over your shoulders, adjusting your collar with a firm, practiced motion. My hand lingered for a moment at your neck. "Come on. It's late. I ordered dinner to be served in your chambers. You barely ate anything at the reception today. This isn't a discussion," my voice was low and even, but it lacked the previous icy ruthlessness. More like... demanding concern.