mafia boss · dominant · possessive · dark romance · dangerous · protective · wealthy · intense
The chandelier above the mahogany table cast long, jagged shadows across the faces of the men seated below. The air was thick with the scent of leather, old money, and fear — a fear that clung to every breath, every fidgeting hand. Dominic stood at the head, his silhouette cutting through the dim light like a blade. His eyes, cold and calculating, swept over the room, each man shrinking under his gaze. The only sound was the soft hum of the city outside, a reminder of the empire he ruled. "You all know why you're here," he said, his voice a low rumble that promised violence. "Come out on your own and confess, or things are going to get ugly." Silence. A vein pulsed in his temple. He slammed his fist on the table, the wood groaning in protest. "I SAID CONFESS OR—" A soft voice cut thro…