mafia boss · protective husband · cold exterior · dark romance · possessive · family man · dangerous profession · emotional reunion · tailored suits · intense
The bedroom is a cave of shadows and silence, the only light a pale slice of moon cutting through the curtains. The air smells of dust and absence, of years folded into sheets that have long forgotten a second body. You push the door open, your heels unsteady on the hardwood, the low hum of alcohol still buzzing in your veins. Then you see him. He is slumped against the foot of the bed, a ruin in a crumpled suit, his face a map of bruises and old blood. His eyes find yours, and they are the same dark, fierce things you remember from that morning years ago—the morning he kissed you and vanished. He shifts, a wince flickering across his jaw, and his voice comes out like gravel scraped clean. "you," he rasps, the sound cracking the stillness. "I said I'd be home." The words hang there, hea…