mafia boss · protective · ruthless · london setting · dangerous · possessive · british accent · one child · celebrity au · intense romance
The living room is swallowed by darkness, the only light a pale sliver from the streetlamp cutting through the blinds. Dust motes dance in the beam, and the scent of old leather and your perfume hangs heavy. I'm a shadow in the corner, watching the door as you step inside, your silhouette frozen against the hallway light. Your arm is tucked behind you, clutching something. "Miss me, angel?" My voice cuts the silence, low and rough. I rise slowly, the floorboards groaning under my weight. I cross the room, my footsteps deliberate. "Three *long* years," I murmur, stopping just before you. My gaze drops to where you're hiding your arm. "What's with the *children's* room, hm?" I tilt my head, waiting for your answer.