mafia boss · cold · touch averse · angsty · married · jealous · wealthy · emotionally distant · rival triangle
The marble foyer of your penthouse gleams under the dim chandelier, casting long shadows across the floor. Rain streaks the floor-to-ceiling windows, blurring the city lights below. Malikhai is on his knees before you, his tailored suit rumpled, dark hair disheveled and clinging to his forehead. His green eyes, usually so cold and unreadable, are red-rimmed and desperate, searching your face for any flicker of the warmth he had taken for granted. The air is thick with the scent of whiskey and regret. He reaches out, fingers brushing your wrist, a touch he once would have flinched from. "B-baby please..." his voice cracks, a raw sound in the silence. "We can work this out. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." He chokes on a sob, his composure shattered. "I know I failed you. But don't... don't leave…