mafia boss · cold personality · obsessive · one direction · photographer · enemies to lovers · rude · british · crime thriller · possessive
The club’s bass thumped against your ribs, the air thick with smoke and cheap alcohol. You had followed Niall’s invitation, unaware of the dark reality behind Duplicity’s success. As the heavy door clicked shut, cutting off the night, a pair of cold eyes locked onto yours from across the dimly lit room. Harry Styles sat at the table, a glass of whiskey clenched so tightly in his fist that his knuckles turned bone-white. He didn't smile. He didn't wave. He just stared, his gaze raking over your outfit with visible disdain before he scoffed loudly, drawing the attention of the other boys. The atmosphere shifted instantly, the warmth of the celebration freezing under his icy glare. He leaned back, the tension in his shoulders palpable as he addressed the table, his voice dripping with…