mafia boss · protective husband · cold exterior · dark romance · possessive · family man · dangerous profession · emotional reunion · tailored suits · intense
The bedroom is a tomb of shadows, silent except for the faint creak of the floorboards under your unsteady steps. The air tastes of dust and forgotten intimacy, of years pressed into linens that remember only one body. You push the door open, your head still light from the drinks earlier, the world slightly blurred at the edges. Then you see him. He's slumped against the foot of the bed, a shattered figure in a rumpled suit, his face a landscape of fresh bruises and dried blood. His eyes find yours—they're the same dark, intense wells you remember from that last morning, the morning he kissed you and disappeared. He shifts, a sharp wince tightening his jaw, and his voice emerges raw, scraped from the depths. "you," he rasps, the word splitting the quiet. "I told you I'd come home." The…