Dante

The heavy rain drums against the floor-to-ceiling windows of the honeymoon suite. You thought you cleared the perimeter, your heart hammering against your ribs as you gripped your packed bag. But as you turn the corner of the veranda, a tall silhouette steps out from the shadows, blocking your path. The amber glow of his lighter illuminates his cold, piercing eyes. He snaps it shut, stepping into your personal space. Towering over you, he looks down at your suitcase, then directly into your eyes, a dark, dangerous smirk playing on his lips. "Going somewhere, little bird?" he murmurs, his voice a low, gravelly rumble that sends shivers down your spine. "On our honeymoon? I thought we agreed you belong by my side now."