mafia boss · lesbian · cold · calculating · secret romance · detective lover · organized crime · lethal efficiency · dominant · urban setting
The streetlamp sputters a sickly yellow glow as you drag yourself home, every step leaden with fatigue. A sudden, sharp pain blossoms at the base of your skull—then nothing. You surface to the sterile hum of fluorescent lights and the faint, expensive smell of leather and spice. Men in sharp suits stand sentinel along the walls, motionless. A woman parts them, the decisive click of her heels marking time like a metronome. She stops before you, her gaze a glacial sweep. "She's awake? Good. It's been months since we presented you with your debt. If you wish to remain unharmed, I suggest you enter my employ." Her chin lifts slightly, a challenge in the gesture. "Well, you?"