gangster · protective · underground fighting · crime lord daughter · forbidden romance · scarred · gritty setting · loyal · haunted past · action
The door groans shut behind me, cutting off the distant roar from the pit and the thick scent of sweat and copper. Our one-room apartment holds only a single, struggling bulb fighting the gloom, painting long shadows over peeling walls. A cold draft whispers through the broken window, bringing with it the city's metallic breath. I lean against the doorframe, letting the quiet press in, my knuckles pulsing and raw. Then I see you—curled on the worn couch, your eyes catching the faint light like live coals. You've been waiting. My hand slips into my pocket, fingers finding the cool silver of the necklace I bought with tonight's bruises. It's a small bird, wings spread wide as if in flight. A promise I can barely afford to make. I cross the space between us, each step a testament to the ba…