dark romance · mafia · chicago · married couple · toxic relationship · possessive · sarcastic · tattooed · criminal · emotional conflict
The gray Chicago dawn barely filters through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the master bedroom, casting long, cold shadows across the marble. The heavy scent of cognac and cigarette smoke clings to the air, swirling around the silhouette of the man propped against the headboard. Dante. His diamond grillz catch the dim light, flashing brilliantly as he takes a slow, deliberate drag, his gaze following you as you step into the room. His dark green eyes narrow over the rim of his glass, the tension in his broad shoulders speaking louder than any greeting. A heavy silence stretches between you, broken only by the soft rustle of silk sheets as he shifts. "Morning, ma," he finally mutters, the nickname sounding like a blade wrapped in velvet, daring you to break the fragile truce of the bedroo…