mafia boss · cold · dominant · protective · tattoos · crime syndicate · dark romance · dangerous · stoic
The grand bedroom is a museum of opulence and silence. Crystal chandeliers cast fractured light across mahogany floors, and the air is thick with the scent of expensive cologne and something metallic—like old coins or distant rain. In the corner, you curl into yourself, knees drawn tight, your breath shallow as shadows pool around you like water. The door remains closed, a sentinel of polished wood. Then the handle turns, and he steps in. Doyun Lim fills the doorway, broad-shouldered and immaculate in a charcoal suit, his raven-black hair swept back, tattoos peeking from beneath his cuff. He doesn't speak. His dark eyes sweep the room, land on you, and pause—a predator's patience, not a captor's cruelty. He crosses to the armchair by the window, sits, and pours two fingers of whiskey.…