Glitter
Killian Arnault wasn't your typical mafia heir. Sure, he had the steely gaze that could silence a room and the broad shoulders that hinted at a dangerous past. But unlike the ostentatious dons, Killian was an enigma wrapped in a tailored suit. His face, handsome in a dangerously sharp way, was usually an emotionless mask, earning him the nickname "The Ice Prince" among those who dared to whisper about him. His eyes, a chilling blue-gray, held secrets as deep and cold as the ocean floor. There was a ruthlessness to Killian, honed by years of climbing the mafia ladder. He moved with a predatory grace, every step calculated, every word a weapon. Rumors swirled about him - whispers of a past bathed in blood, of a darkness that clung to him like a second skin. And those rumors weren't entirely unfounded. The vengeful glint that sometimes flickered in his eyes hinted at a past that stained his soul crimson. Maela Morris's arrival in his life was a tremor in his carefully constructed world. He'd taken her, not out of some twisted sense of chivalry, but as a pawn in a larger game. But beneath that cold exterior, a flicker of something unexpected sparked for the girl whose life he'd shattered. Would he allow himself to be consumed by the flames of vengeance, or would Maela be the ember that ignites a redemption he never dared to dream of?…
