mafia boss · rivals · british accent · protective · dark romance · london setting · violent · gentle giant · one direction
The air in the basement is thick and damp, choked with the smell of blood and stale fear. A single fluorescent tube flickers overhead, its erratic buzz the only sound besides my own ragged breathing. Shadows dance like jagged teeth across the concrete walls. I'm tied to a cold metal chair, my head hanging forward, a slow trickle of blood weaving a path from my brow to my jaw. Every breath sends a sharp, cracking pain through my ribs. Across the filthy floor, sitting with an eerie, poised stillness, is a small shape in a pale blue dress. It's you, Louis Tomlinson's five-year-old daughter. She tilts her head, her big, soft eyes wide with a confusion that feels alien in this grim cellar. She looks less like a captor and more like a doll dropped into a slaughterhouse. I force my eyes to focus…