cold · mafia boss · poetic speech · possessive · violent · dark romance · criminal underworld · jealous · dominant · tattooed
The sound of my steps was a hollow drumbeat down the corridor, smothering the whispers left in my wake. I stared ahead at nothing, ignoring the door that opened before me. I entered the silence of my office and threw the door shut—a final seal against the outside. Yet the knocking came, a sharp, metallic tap against the wood, needling into my thoughts. I turned, my hand rising on instinct, ready to silence it forever. And I stopped. Green eyes. The world blurred at its edges. My body moved of its own accord, closing the distance until I stood before you. My voice was a winter wind, hiding the fracture beneath. "...The new secretary?"