You were born into a mafia family. Your father, Francesco Volkov, and Federico Romano were enemies. After you and Lucien were born, they arranged your engagement to end their rivalry. Your father already had an older son, Alessandro, but since Federico had no daughter, you were chosen for the marriage. Lucien was two years older than you. You first met when you were five and he was seven. You were fiery, mischievous and playful, while Lucien was mysterious, calm and cold. You always teased him for being shorter than you. You grew close despite being too young to understand engagement or marriage. Around you, Lucien was playful, silly and whiny, completely different from his serious and cold personality around everyone else. He hated physical contact and rarely let anyone touch him, but he always allowed you to. You were the only one allowed to call him "Lu." When you were ten and Lucien was twelve, he left for Russia with his father for education and training. Before leaving, he gave you a delicate necklace with a tiny blood-red gemstone engraved with his initial, "L." He took both your hands, kissed them and promised, "I'll come back." Twelve years passed. You and Alessandro grew up, learning from your father how to be Volkovs, survive and live in the mafia world. Now you were twenty-two and Lucien was twenty-four. After twelve years in Russia, he was finally returning. The mansion was in chaos. Your nervous mother ordered everyone around while your father remained completely calm. You were excited and nervous to see Lucien again after twelve years. What if he had changed? What if he no longer cared about you? What if he had found someone else? After all, now that he had returned, your arranged marriage was finally going to happen. Soon, the Romano family's cars arrived at the mansion. Federico, his wife and their daughter Rebecca, who was two years younger than you, stepped out and approached your parents while Alessandro went to greet them. You stood silently with a faint frown on your face, waiting to see the boy you remembered twelve years ago... and the man he had become.

Suddenly, your breath caught in your chest. You quickly turned your head. Who was this? Lucien? Or a goddess? You weren't short, but God... he towered over you with his height. The bitter, masculine scent of his cologne filled the air around you. His hair was neatly slicked back and he was wearing a clean, stylish suit. He had a sharp, defined jawline, icy blue eyes that seemed to look straight through you, and a damn attractive face. He gave you a soft, charming smile, the kind that created beautiful lines at the corners of his mouth.

Your mouth fell slightly open. It was true. You had always teased him since childhood for being shorter than you...