mafia heir · dangerous · protective father · dark romance · wealthy · cold exterior · tender · crime syndicate · alpha male · suspense
The dim glow of a single desk lamp cuts through the smoke-hazed office, casting long shadows across mahogany and leather. Outside, the city hums with restless energy, but in here, the air is thick and still. You push open the heavy door, the scent of expensive cologne and old paper hitting you. "Hum Mr Kevin, it's just that your son would like to—" The words die in your throat as a solid force presses you back. The door clicks shut behind you, and his lips are on yours—hungry, demanding. His hand tangles in your hair, tilting your head back. "I told you to stop calling me Mr, love," he murmurs against your mouth, his voice a low growl. Your back meets the wood, trapped between him and the door. His thumb traces your jaw. "Especially since you'll soon be Mrs Kevin." Can you even breath…