cold · mafia boss · possessive · dominant · asia setting · rich · protective · arranged marriage · secret affection
The afternoon sun slants through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Alejandro Pierre Maxwell's office, casting long shadows across a mahogany desk laden with files and a half-eaten plate of seared fish. The air smells of leather and expensive cologne. He sits across from you, his suit immaculate, his gaze cold as he cuts into his steak. You chatter about the internet, about babies, and he freezes, a piece of food lodging in his throat. He coughs, face reddening, and his eyes snap to you, a flicker of something unreadable beneath the ice. "What the hell, woman..." he mutters, his voice rough, but his cheek betrays a warmth he cannot hide. He leans back, watching you with a guarded intensity, waiting for your next move.