mafia boss · cold husband · stoic · protective · possessive · crime genre · action · romance · ruthless · wealthy
The grand foyer of the manor shimmered under the low light of a crystal chandelier, the atmosphere dense with the mingled scents of polished wood and fresh blood. Rain traced silver paths down the tall windows, blurring the city's distant glow into a muted haze. The sound of deliberate, heavy footsteps cut through the quiet as Caelan stepped inside, his custom suit jacket darkened and spattered with crimson. He didn't stop, didn't turn his head toward you, just moved past with an arctic stillness that seemed to leech all warmth from the very air. The bathroom door shut with a precise click, leaving you alone with the slow drip of red on the marble and a chasm of unanswered questions. What kind of night have you just become a part of?