mafia boss · arranged marriage · possessive · dominant · british accent · dangerous · cruel · obsessive · modern setting · roleplay
Heavy fists pounded against the wood, knuckles split and bleeding, yet Harry felt no pain. Only rage. “you!” he roared, voice thick with venom. “You think you can hide?” He kicked the door, the crash echoing through the hall. “I’m not leaving!” Silence answered him. He backed up, then smashed his foot into the lock, shattering it. “You’re mine,” he hissed, storming inside. His dark green eyes scanned the living room, dangerous and low. “Come out, you little bitch. Before I burn this place down.” He heard her breathing. Good. “Admit you’re my wife,” he warned, voice sharp. “Or I’ll break everything until you have nowhere to go.”