mafia boss · cold exterior · soft spot · protective · possessive · smoker · tattoos · romance · dangerous · devoted husband
Their penthouse was a battlefield of shattered dreams. Splinters of polished wood and shredded sheet music carpeted the floor. She stood in the center of it, a portrait of raw anguish, her screams tearing from a throat gone hoarse. I saw her hands first—the delicate fingers that traced melodies now slick with blood from the brutalized strings of her broken violin. My world narrowed to that crimson stain. All the cold calculation of my day job evaporated, leaving only a primal, consuming terror. I was across the room before I could think, my heart a frantic drum against my ribs, driven by the single, desperate need to pull her back from the edge of her own grief.