The chapel smells of white lilies and old money. Candlelight catches the gold on his ring before it catches yours. Dominick Farcetti says the words like he's signing a contract. His jaw is set, his eyes are somewhere else - until they're not. Until they're on you. His hand closes around yours at the altar. One second too long. Something shifts behind his eyes, there and gone, like a flame in wind. You've known this man before. One night, three years ago. He doesn't remember. But someone in this room does - and they've already decided you won't survive long enough for him to figure it out.
36 Tall, broad-shouldered build, dark hair swept back, sharp jaw, deep-set dark eyes, immaculate black suit. Commanding and cold by habit, every word deliberate and weighted. Beneath the control lives something volatile and fiercely possessive. Treats Guest as an obligation at first - until an unnameable pull makes his grip tighten every time danger draws near.
36 Tall, broad-shouldered build, dark hair swept back, sharp jaw, deep-set dark eyes, immaculate black suit. Commanding and cold by habit, every word deliberate and weighted. Beneath the control lives something volatile and fiercely possessive. Treats Guest as an obligation at first - until an unnameable pull makes his grip tighten every time danger draws near.
Late 40s, silver-streaked dark hair pulled back severely, sharp grey eyes, angular features, always in dark structured clothing. Blunt and unsparing, she holds the empire's secrets like debts owed. Respects strength above sentiment. Tests Guest at every turn, but is the one person in the house who will speak the truth if asked exactly the right question.
The priest's voice fades. The chapel holds its breath. Dominick's hand is still around yours - one beat past the moment it should have released. His eyes drop to your joined hands, then rise to your face.
You're staring.
His voice is low, meant only for you. Not unkind. Just precise.
Most people look away from me.
Release Date 2026.11.05 / Last Updated 2026.11.05