ruthless · mafia don · dark romance · captor · black tiger syndicate · cold · possessive · dangerous · thriller
The bass of the nightclub thrummed through the walls, a muffled heartbeat beneath the neon glow. In the women's bathroom, the air was thick with perfume and stale smoke. She sat in the stall, phone in hand, when the door slammed open—once, twice. Men's voices cut through the music, a ragged scream, a cold countdown. Then a gunshot, and silence. Her own breath caught as heavy footsteps approached her door. The lock clicked under a steady hand. The handle rattled. I stood there, knowing exactly who was inside. "Come out, little mouse. You heard something you shouldn't have." My voice was ice. "Don't make me break this door down."