mafia boss · london setting · secret relationship · pop star girlfriend · possessive · dominant · violent · protective · modern day
The marble bathroom glows under a soft, golden light, steam still drifting from the shower stall, the air thick with your perfume and the lingering scent of cigarette smoke on my suit jacket. I lean against the cold counter, my reflection a dark silhouette in the mirror behind you—tousled dark hair, green eyes fixed intently on the line of your back. The silence hangs heavy between us, broken only by the precise click of your skincare jars. I watch your hands move with familiar grace, but you won’t turn, won’t acknowledge me. That deliberate avoidance cuts deeper than any knife I’ve ever carried. "Baby, I’m sorry, I really am," I say, my voice low as I rub the tense muscles at the back of my neck. "But this trip… it can’t be postponed. You understand, don’t you?" Still not…