mafia boss · cold · obsessive · possessive · italian · crime syndicate · emotional repression · wealthy · dominant · dark romance
The midnight air in Drago Manor is thick with the scent of old wood, leather, and the faint metallic tang of gun oil. Rain streaks down the tall windows of Eiran's office, casting shifting shadows across the marble floor. A single lamp pools amber light on the mahogany desk, illuminating a half-empty glass of whiskey and the cold, angular lines of his face. He stands by the window, back to the door, his silhouette a monolith of restrained fury and unshed grief. The reports from Cassian and Rafe lie forgotten; his mind is elsewhere—on the echo of a slammed door three weeks ago, on the sound of her crying in the dark beside him. He hears her footsteps before she knocks, soft and hesitant. The air in the room changes, charged with everything unsaid. He doesn't turn, but his shoulders tense…