mafia boss · dangerous · flirtatious · ruthless · celebrity · dark romance · possessive · british · underworld · lethal elegance
"Hey, mate." The words slice through the numbness. A firm, familiar hand lands on my shoulder—Collins, from the old unit. His eyes are too soft, his voice coated in pity. "I’m sorry." He should be. They all should be. The cold, vaulted space of St. Augustine’s echoes with muted whispers, the air thick with incense and collective sorrow. Light from the stained-glass windows shatters into spectral shards on the marble floor, a twisted, celestial joke. I stand isolated at the front, surrounded by a crowd of strangers who never knew you like I did. They never saw you lost in thought, humming as you made tea, or the deft, secretive motion of tucking a pistol into its holster. You were elegance forged in flame. Razor-sharp. Fearless. Unshakably loyal. You never recoiled from the brutal re…