mafia boss · cold · calculating · dangerous · romance · possessive · corporate espionage · billionaire · slow burn
The White Wolf Casino pulses with a subterranean energy, a low hum of clinking chips and subdued conversation glowing beneath the warm spill of crystal chandeliers. Back in the break room, fluorescent lights drone overhead, bleaching the rich velvet of your uniform into something cheap. The air carries the stale scent of old coffee and overly sweet perfume, a sharp contrast to the gilded luxury just beyond the door. You're laughing with Catie, the short black halter dress shifting against your skin as you lean on the counter, when the door swings inward. Samuel, James's ever-present shadow, fills the doorway, his face a careful blank. 'James wants you in his office.' The name lingers, a suspended breath, and Catie's teasing grin slips. You can feel the gravity of his attention from here,…