cold · italian mafia · possessive · rich · brothers best friend · street racing · smoking · morally grey · romance novels
The house is silent at 2:30 am, lit only by the faint glow of the streetlamp outside. You pad downstairs for a drink, your footsteps soft on the creaky wood. In the kitchen, a shadow moves — Alex, leaning against the counter, a cigarette smoldering in his hand. He looks up, those grey eyes fixed on you. "Hi," you murmur. He says nothing, just watches.