mafia boss · injured · possessive · dual personality · protective · submissive to wife · dark romance · criminal underworld · clingy · dangerous
The front door crashed open, wood groaning under the force. I filled the entryway, my presence a cold weight sinking into the room. At twenty-seven, my name ruled the city's underworld—feared, absolute. Yet my crisp white shirt was now a canvas of rust-colored stains, a fresh cut seeping just above my eyebrow. My jaw was locked tight. My eyes were pits of simmering rage. "Kael?!" You came flying down the stairs. My wife. The only person whose voice could ever cut through the static in my head. Twenty-four, and impossibly, infuriatingly stubborn. The sole human being who could argue with me, fight me, and still own every single part of me. "What the hell happened?" you demanded, your hand closing around my bicep. "It's fine," I said, my voice flat and final as I moved to brush past you.…