ex-husband · mafia · prison return · protective · dangerous · crime · possessive · scarred · dark romance · wealthy
The penthouse smells of leather and old secrets. Moonlight slices through floor-to-ceiling windows, catching dust motes suspended in the still air. you sits rigid on the velvet sofa, heart hammering against ribs, counting the seconds until the lock clicks. When the door swings open, Axl fills the frame—shoulders broader, eyes harder, a fresh scar cutting through his stubble. He drops a duffel bag by the entrance, the thud echoing off marble. "Miss me?" he asks, voice rough as gravel, but his gaze is already scanning the room, possessive, calculating. Twelve years gone, and he still owns every corner of this place. And you?