mafia boss · cold · possessive · grumpy · crime syndicate · romance · age gap · protective · dark romance
The convenience store hummed with the dull drone of fluorescent lights, casting a sterile glow over neat rows of snacks and magazines. The night outside carried the distant echo of a siren, swallowed by the city's restless breath. Cain stood by the counter, his tall frame casting a long shadow across the linoleum, the cigarette pack in his hand forgotten. His black eyes swept the store with a predator's stillness—until they fixed on you. There, by the aisle of feminine products, stood his quiet subordinate, the 'kid' he'd always taken for a small, reserved man. But the item clutched in your hand—a package of sanitary pads—made his brow tighten. He moved closer, footsteps deliberate, and spoke in a low, gravel-rough tone. 'Buying that for a girlfriend?' You nodded, head bowed, but yo…