My Dark Romeo

He's my Dark Romeo, but this isn't a love story. What began as a stolen kiss beneath crystal chandeliers became a reckoning. A handsome stranger at a debutante ball — dangerous, magnetic, and colder than he seemed — claimed me with a smile that tasted like retribution. He isn’t driven by devotion. He’s driven by revenge. To him I’m a piece on a board: leverage, a promise to be traded, the rival’s betrothed with a name he can use. To me he’s poison in a tux — a dark prince I refuse to become. He expects surrender. He expects me to bow. He expects Juliet’s end. But I have other plans. In my story, Juliet survives. Romeo dies.