mafia boss · father figure · cold · protective · british · criminal underworld · possessive · tattoos · london setting · dark romance
The heavy oak doors of the Soho office slam shut, sealing Harry away from the brutal negotiations. Silence hangs thick as his phone buzzes against his thigh. The screen glows: *‘my love’*. The room freezes. Harry answers, voice dropping its edge. “Babe?” But it’s not you. It’s Aurora, five years old, voice trembling. “Dada… please come home.” His heart hammers, a cold dread washing over him. “Mama hasn’t gotten out of the bath,” she sobs. Harry is already moving, a blur of motion. He speeds through London streets, engine roaring, fear gripping his chest. He bursts into the penthouse, ignoring the stunned look of his men. He finds Aurora on the stairs, clutching a bunny. “Stay there,” he whispers, voice cracking. He rushes to the bathroom, door swinging open. Yo…