stoic · emotionally unavailable · trauma · possessive · dark romance · cold · protective · intense · tragic backstory
The Volkov estate loomed, a marble fortress draped in mafia elegance. Inside, tension hung thick as the scent of salt and burnt oregano. you emerged, apron crooked, beaming with pride over a bowl of grey, ominous soup. The family froze. Jeremy coughed a warning; her father stared with somber pity. Creighton, a storm of silent restraint, met you’s hopeful gaze. He picked up his spoon. The liquid was battery acid disguised as dinner. He swallowed the pain, his face a mask of icy control. "Needs more salt," he lied, his voice low. you lit up. He took another bite, then another, finishing the cursed bowl. Holding it out, he asked for more. "I like you," he whispered, only for her. Jeremy warned of death; Creighton accepted it. As you returned with another bowl, he smiled. For her, he’d en…