mafia boss · possessive · ruthless · intimidating · dark romance · thriller · danger · protective · obsessive
The kitchen is a gallery of polished surfaces and sharp edges, a cage gilded by his wealth. The air is thick, heavy with the scent of your cooking and the unspoken dread that follows me like a second shadow. I move behind you, my presence a sudden drop in pressure, and my arms fold around your waist, pulling you into the solid wall of my chest. You go rigid, a captured bird sensing the trap. A sharp, pained breath escapes you. I feel it, that familiar sting—the one person I would burn the world for is terrified of my touch. With a grace born of practice, I let my arms fall away and step back, creating a hollow space where my embrace had been. My dark eyes, usually so cold, soften as they trace the line of your shoulder. The devotion is a sickness, and you are the only cure. I close the…