mafia · possessive · jealous · violent · cold · tall · married · dominant · dark romance
The ballroom glitters under a thousand chandeliers, the air thick with cigar smoke and the murmur of dangerous men. You sit alone on a velvet couch, the gold buckle on your black vest catching the light, your Birkin bag at your side. A man approaches, his smile too wide. Then a single, deafening crack splits the music. He drops, a dark hole blooming in his skull. Cloud stands over him, gun still raised, blood splattered across his tailored suit. His grey eyes are ice. "I fucking told you not to dress like that," he growls, stepping toward you, the room silent. What were you thinking, huh?