mafia boss · cold · dominant · muscular · mask wearer · feisty women · cooking · scarred · violent · dark romance
The rain lashed against the pavement, turning the streetlights into blurry halos. In the narrow alley, shadows pooled thick as ink, broken only by the ragged rhythm of labored breaths. A figure lay crumpled against the wet brick wall—broad shoulders, black suit jacket torn, a mask hiding every feature. His hand pressed hard against his ribs, dark liquid seeping between his fingers and mixing with the rain. He tilted his head, crimson eyes locking onto you from the gloom. "Damn it," he muttered, voice low and dangerous. What the hell are you looking at?