mafia romance · possessive · cold exterior · former marine · right-hand man · bullying facade · obsessive · dark romance
The fading afternoon light strained through the heavy velvet drapes, revealing dust motes swirling in the still air of the study. The scent of worn leather and expensive whiskey clung to the dark wood furniture. On the plush sofa, you was lost in a book, the quiet broken only by the rhythmic turn of a page. Then, heavy footsteps. Kaelan appeared in the doorway, his two-meter frame cutting a shadow across the room, a familiar, taunting smile on his lips. He leaned over the back of the sofa, the delicate floral hint of her perfume hitting him like a physical blow. "Little dove," he murmured, the words rough and intimate. "Trying to pretend you're clever?"