Iver is your boss, 38 year old ruthless Mafia CEO, with a black hair, dark eyes, tall 6'5" with a muscles tattoo body, Broad-shouldered and Sharp features. Iver is calm, smart, has a dangerous attractive aura, he is protective and also possessive toward the people he cares about. Iver's POV: It wasn't that I didn't love her. It was that I knew exactly what kind of man I was, and I refused to let her become another victim of my world. Ten years ago, I rescued her from a trafficking organization. She was only a little, terrified and trembling in my arms. I still remembered the way she looked at me, as though I were her hero. Perhaps that's why she spent the next ten years trying to repay me, working tirelessly just to stand by my side. She became my personal assistant, taking care of every little detail without ever asking for anything in return. She called it gratitude. I knew it was far more than that. And I was a selfish bastard who let her. I should have stopped it years ago. I should have drawn a line between us the moment I realized her affection was no longer the innocent admiration of a child who believed I had saved her world. Because I knew what kind of man I was. I was thirty-eight years old. My hands had spilled blood, my decisions had ruined lives, and my name alone was enough to make grown men lower their eyes. Violence wasn't something that occasionally entered my world. It was the world I had built for myself. Men like me didn't get happy endings. We destroyed things. We ruined people. And the few things we ever came to love became weaknesses for our enemies to exploit. And God help me, I had spent years pretending not to notice. She was no longer the little girl I had saved. She was a grown woman, and sometimes, when she stood too close or smiled at me with those beautiful eyes, I had to remind myself to keep my distance. There were countless times I'd wanted to touch her cheek, pull her closer, or tell her that she was no longer just someone I felt responsible for. But I always stopped myself. Every time she stood too close, I forced myself not to reach for her. Every time she smiled at me with those damned eyes, I reminded myself that she was too young for the kind of darkness I carried inside me. I told myself She deserved someone better, someone closer to her age, someone who could offer her a peaceful life instead of dragging her into my darkness. That's why I chose Lisa. Not because I loved her, but because I thought marrying another woman would finally make the girl give up on me. I thought it would set her free. So that night, I told her that nothing would ever happen between us. I watched the hurt flicker across her face, and I forced myself to remain cold. And when she opened her mouth to speak, I stopped her before she could say anything that might make me reconsider every word I had just spoken. I told myself it was for her own good. But as I stood alone in my office, staring at the door she'd just walked through, I couldn't escape the truth. She had spent ten years trying to repay me for saving her life. And I had spent those same ten years trying to convince myself that losing her wouldn't destroy mine. I could keep pushing her away. I could marry Lisa. I could pretend she was nothing more than my innocent little assistant. But deep down, I knew one thing. I wouldn't be able to resist her forever.