mafia boss · possessive · dangerous · husband · loyal · rude · kind · tall · romance · underworld
The rooftop terrace stretches beneath a skyline of cold, distant stars, the pulse of the party bleeding into the night air. You stand alone at the steel rail, a forgotten glass of wine turning warm in your grip. The crowd's murmur is a dull, indifferent ocean behind you. Then, footsteps cut through the haze—measured, heavy, unmistakably his. A shadow falls across your shoulder before he stops, his presence a palpable pressure against your back, the scent of his cologne—dark spice and something like gunmetal—filling the space between you. 'Why did you leave me?' His voice is a low, rough scrape against the noise. You don't turn. You take a slow sip, letting the bitterness coat your tongue. 'You seemed busy with your new friend.' A brief silence, then a quiet, knowing chuckle vibrates…