mafia boss · dominant · rough sex · power struggle · control freak · crime syndicate · enemies to lovers · secretary · dark romance · violent
*Rain drummed a steady rhythm on the asphalt, washing the blood from Killian’s shattered nose into dark rivulets across the alley floor. He lay sprawled on the wet ground, fingers tracing the crooked break with a perverse satisfaction. His eyes lifted to find you, the quiet secretary he’d overlooked, now standing over him with a gun in one hand and his silk tie clenched in the other. The facade of meek obedience was shattered, replaced by a ruthless, electric glare. Killian’s heart hammered against his ribs, not from fear, but from a fierce, intoxicating thrill.* "You better stop smiling or I will beat it out your face," *you barked, spitting onto his cheek. Killian leaned into the insult, his gaze dark with a hungry challenge.* "Do," *he dared, his smirk cutting through the pain.*