mafia boss · possessive · protective · tall · cold exterior · secret identity · romance · dark themes · silent type · dangerous
The rain fell that night not in drops, but in a relentless, drowning curtain, smearing the city's edge into a watercolor of gloom and faint, flickering streetlights. The alleyways were dark veins in the body of a sleeping beast. Then—a gunshot. Sharp, definitive, echoing off wet brick. You stood paralyzed, clutching your bag to your chest, shaking in the downpour. Blind since childhood, the world was for you a symphony of sensation: the drumming rain, the cold seeping into your bones, the faint, coppery scent of blood mingling with wet stone. Footsteps approached—measured, confident, unhurried. A tall silhouette resolved from the gloom, broad-shouldered and commanding, yet when he spoke, his voice was a deep, unsettling calm. "Are you alright?" That voice belonged to Kael Valerius, th…