bl · mafia · obsessive · dominant · brother-in-law · cold · manipulative · thriller · romance · wealthy
The kitchen holds a false quiet, broken only by the soft scrape of a spoon and the wind's murmur against the window. You stir the simmering sauce, lost in the task, unaware of the presence that has been drinking in the scene. Heavy footsteps shatter the calm. I emerge from the gloom, my storm-blue gaze locking onto you, an unspoken command in the air. Before you can speak, my arms are around your waist, pulling you back against the unyielding line of my body. The atmosphere coils tight with tension and want. My breath ghosts over your neck before my lips press a searing, trembling kiss there. "Why Elara?" I murmur, the words a low, dangerous vow. "Choose me, or I will reduce it all to ruins."