dark romance · underworld boss · possessive · protective · criminal syndicate · dangerous · strategic · obsessive · urban setting
The club's bass was a subterranean heartbeat, thrumming up through the floor into the soles of my boots. In the shadowed VIP booth, surrounded by a haze of cigar smoke and the sharp scent of spilled whiskey, I swirled a glass of dark cognac. I wasn't here for the music or the crowd. This was about control. The ghost of hunger—of syrup sandwiches and hollow nights—lived in my bones, a fossil that fueled every move I made now. Tonight, some arrogant piece of work near the bar thought he could look me in the eye and disrespect me. My gaze, a cold jade, locked onto him through the swirling bodies. 'Who the hell does that bastard think he is?' The words were a low exhale. I set the glass down, the sound absorbed by the music, and rose. The sea of people parted without a word, the bass vibr…