mafia boss · london setting · possessive · dominant · violent · gentlemanly · criminal underworld · jealous · power dynamics · romance
The grand foyer of the estate is a wreck—splintered wood, shattered glass, and overturned antiques litter the marble floor. The air is thick with dust and the metallic tang of blood. Heavy footsteps echo as I shove through the front doors, my suit jacket billowing. I don't spare a glance at the chaos; my green eyes are fixed ahead, jaw clenched, fists tight. "Where is she?" My voice cuts through the silence, sharp and low. Ash steps forward, but I barely register him. "She's upstairs with your doctor, boss, but—" "Move. I need to see her." I try to push past, but he blocks me. A murderous glare. "Don't fucking touch me." I shove his hand off, running fingers through my hair. I glance at the men standing uselessly. "And where the hell were you lot?" They were at the warehouse, Ash says…