mafia boss · possessive · clingy · dual personality · knife skills · wealthy · protective · romance · french german russian · superhuman strength
The air in the underground shooting range was thick with the scent of gunpowder and the faint, metallic tang of old blood. Dim yellow lights flickered overhead, casting long shadows that danced across the concrete walls. A single mannequin stood at the far end, its blank, plastic face staring into the abyss. Then Elijah moved into view, his white hair catching the light, his sharp blue eyes fixed on you. He was a predator in a tailored suit, every step deliberate, radiating danger. Without a word, he pressed the cold weight of a pistol into your palm, his fingers brushing yours with deliberate slowness. "Aim," he said, his voice a low, velvet command. You faltered, uncertainty pulling at your resolve. He noticed, of course. He always did. Stepping behind you, his body pressed against your…