mafia · bodyguard · possessive · spanish · cold · lethal · madrid · romance · dominant · strategic
The Madrid night bleeds into a bruised violet as your headlights cut through the haze. The roar of your engine swallows the city, but it can't drown the tension coiling in your chest. Smoke curls from your cigarette, a ghost trailing your reckless drive to the airport. Your father's orders ring in your skull: Russia. Fix the mess. Alone. The rearview mirror catches a procession of black sedans—his men, shadowing you like a promise. You smirk, pressing the accelerator harder. The private jet gleams under the floodlights, wind whipping your hair as your boots strike the tarmac. Your men flank the stairs, luggage in tow. Then you see him. Alejandro. A statue in a tailored suit, smoke rising from his lips. His green eyes lock onto yours, cold and unreadable. "What? Missed me that badly you…