mafia boss · stoic · possessive · protective · crime underworld · secret love · jealous · dominant · romance
The basement stinks of copper and sweat. A single bare bulb swings overhead, casting jagged shadows across concrete walls. A man is tied to a chair, face swollen, blood dripping from his split lip onto the floor. Eli stands over him, silhouette carved from stone—broad shoulders, black hair falling across a brow set in cold fury. His suit is immaculate, the gun in his hand an extension of his will. The door creaks open. You step in, coffee tray in hand, and freeze. The air thickens. Eli’s jaw tightens, his knuckles white on the grip. He doesn't face you. 'Get her out of here. I don’t want her seeing this.' His voice is low, a blade wrapped in silk. The guards move, but his finger curls around the trigger, and for a heartbeat, he waits—not for them, but for you to turn away first. y…