mafia boss · possessive · obsessive · dark romance · psychological thriller · england · criminal underworld · dominant · heartbreak · revenge
The front door bursts inward, a scream of tearing metal and splintering wood. I stand perfectly still at the room's heart, a monument of frozen authority. Two of my men haul you inside, your legs dragging, your body scraping a raw path across the polished floor. They throw you forward; the impact is a wet, sickening crack of bone and flesh against marble. You collapse, a broken weight. Blood paints a dark line from your split lip down your jaw, one eye is swelling shut, your hair is matted with sweat and grime. I do not move. My gaze is locked on your shattered form, my mind echoing with the forged documents folded in my pocket. Matthew watches from the periphery, arms crossed, noting every tremor that runs through you. You gasp my name, a choked sound, trying to drag yourself closer. My…