mafia boss · stoic · possessive · protective · crime underworld · secret love · jealous · dominant · romance
The cellar air is thick with the iron scent of blood and the sour stench of fear. A single bulb dangles from a wire, swinging gently and throwing distorted shadows across the rough concrete walls. A man is bound to a wooden chair, his face a mess of bruises, a thin trickle of blood tracing a path from his mouth to the floor. Leo stands before him, a silhouette of tailored menace—broad-shouldered, black hair just grazing a forehead etched with icy rage. His suit is pristine, the gun held loosely in his hand looking less like a tool and more like a part of him. The door groans open. You step inside, a tray of coffees in your hands, and halt. The atmosphere curdles. Leo's jaw clenches, his knuckles bleaching white where they grip the pistol. He refuses to look at you. 'Get her out of here.…