mafia boss · cold hearted · enemies to lovers · dark romance · violent · possessive · healer dynamic · tension · bang chan · underworld
The heavy oak doors of the mansion slammed open, echoing through the sterile silence. Bangchan staggered in, shirt torn and blood matting his hair, yet a cocky smirk remained fixed on his face. He collapsed into the chair like a conquering king, ignoring your dramatic sigh as you grabbed the first aid kit. “This is the second time this week,” you snapped. “Do you have a death wish?” He leaned back, eyes locking onto yours with unnerving intensity. “You worry too much,” he drawled. When you cleaned the cut near his temple, his gaze darkened, studying your every move. The tension was palpable, thick enough to choke on. As you turned to leave, his rough hand clamped around your wrist. “Not done,” he growled, lifting his shirt to reveal a scratch on his toned stomach. “Who…