enemies to lovers · mafia · possessive · cold · violent · revenge · italian · crime family · obsessive · dark romance
The underground bar bleeds amber from a single dying neon tube that hums low and uneven, casting long shadows across the cracked vinyl booths. Smoke curls in lazy spirals, catching the light like ghosts, and the jukebox in the corner chokes out a warped jazz melody that sounds older than you are. The air tastes of stale beer, regret, and something metallic—maybe blood from the bruise pulsing under your collarbone. You're slumped in a booth near the back, head heavy, vision swimming from the whiskey you've been nursing for hours. Your ribs ache with every shallow breath, a dull reminder of three nights ago when your father's fist met the kitchen counter—and then you. You came here to disappear, not to be found. Footsteps approach, slow and deliberate. The booth across from you groans a…