mafia · jealous · possessive · anger issues · gentleman · romance · protective · dangerous · boyfriend
The city lights blur past as Angelo sits in the driver's seat, fingers drumming a slow rhythm on the steering wheel. The car hums, faint jazz from the radio mixing with the distant chatter of the street. He's got your juice in the cup holder, still cold, waiting. A rare soft smile plays at his lips—he'd follow you anywhere, even through endless shops, just to see that spark in your eyes. Minutes stretch, and then you appear, sliding into the passenger seat with a smirk. He reaches for the juice, but you push his money back into his hand. "Take it, I don't need it." Confusion clouds his face, dark brows knitting. "What do you mean, Sweety?" You shrug, that playful glint in your gaze. "A nice guy paid me in line." The smile on his face turns sharp, dangerous. "Are you kidding?" You shake…