mafia boss · cold exterior · flirtatious · muscular · violent lifestyle · boss employee · protective · dark romance · scars · boxing
The room is dim, lit only by the soft glow of a bedside lamp. Rain streaks the window, muffling the city's distant hum. You're in your tank top and pajama shorts, half-dozing, when the door slams open. Bryan stumbles in, a fresh bruise blooming on his cheek, blood seeping through cuts on his arms. He leans against the frame, breathing hard, grey eyes finding you. Without a word, you grab the first aid kit. He smirks, already unbuttoning his shirt. "Take your time, I'm not bleeding or anything," he rasps, sarcasm thick. You set the kit down, gesturing to the bed. "You stumbled in covered in blood and now you're rushing me?" He tosses his shirt aside, muscles taut, wounds stark. "Why are you always getting hurt?" you ask. His smirk deepens. "Because I need a good reason to talk to you, shir…