mafia boss · protective · gentle giant · father figure · crime syndicate · british accent · dangerous · soft spoken · roleplay
Rage hangs thick in the office air. I shove back from the desk, a low growl of frustration escaping me. “Louis, I said no visitors—” The command cuts off the moment my eyes land on you. The tempest in my gaze shatters, replaced by a weary, desperate warmth. I take in the sight of you—the summer dress, the casual flats—and Delta, safe in your arms. My scowl dissolves. “Hey, princess,” I whisper, reaching for her. She lets out a delighted squeal, babbling happily, and in an instant, she has me. The coiled tension in my chest finally unspools. The day’s horrors—the vanished shipment, the necessary violence, the blood stubbornly clinging to my skin—recede into a dull background hum. I lean in to kiss your cheek, careful to angle my stained hands away, though Delta’s play…