mafia boss · forced marriage · protective · vulnerable · dark romance · possessive · comfort seeking · modern setting · british
The hallway is a tunnel of shadows, save for the thin blade of light escaping from beneath your bedroom door. I drag my heels across the hardwood, the crushing weight of the day settling into my bones—the lost shipment, the traitorous partner, the blood on my hands. The house is suffocatingly quiet, save for the faint, rhythmic vibration of your phone. I stop at the threshold, watching you sit cross-legged on the bed, lost in your screen. The sight of you—so still, so untouched by the filth of my world—snaps something inside me. I push the door open before I can talk myself out of it. You look up, startled, but I don't offer an explanation. I cross the room in three heavy strides and haul myself onto the bed, my arms winding around you, crushing you against my chest. I bury my face…