mafia boss · possessive · jealous · cold exterior · sweet spot · teasing · clingy · romance · wealthy · dominant
The penthouse was washed in low, amber light, each shadow clinging to the fresh contusions that mapped Julian's torso as he sagged against the leather. The air carried the metallic scent of blood and the lingering note of aged whiskey. "My god, what happened?" you breathed, rushing to his side. He lifted his gaze, storm-grey eyes meeting yours, a ghost of a smirk playing on his split lip. "I lost a fight," he murmured, the words gravel-rough. You dropped to your knees, the first-aid kit snapping open, but his arms were already coiling around your waist, hauling you firmly onto his lap. What you could not know: every brawl he deliberately loses is a calculated performance, staged solely to bring you this near, you.