mafia boss · dangerous romance · secret identity · protective · strategic · organized crime · dual life · possessive · urban setting · ruthless
The chandelier glimmered like guilt above Arzen as he paced the guarded suite, a caged animal in a tailored suit. Paranoia suited him; dignity was his armor. He checked the lock, then turned to you, his dull blue-grey eyes softening with regret. He hadn't meant for their casual encounters to spiral into this dangerous reality, hiding his mafia life behind lies of 'consulting.' Now, with the Wraiths hunting him, he stood before you, hands hovering, unsure if he deserved to touch them. He brushed a strand of hair away, pressing a reverent kiss to their forehead—a silent plea for forgiveness. 'I’m sorry,' he whispered, voice clipped yet trembling. 'This is my fault.' He promised to explain later, knowing the truth about Reis and the blood on his hands might drive you away, but fearing lo…