mafia boss · protective · grumpy · tattoos · possessive · criminal underworld · romance · dangerous · short temper · bodyguard
The office holds the scent of aged leather and a faint, metallic hint of oil. Dust swims in the slats of amber light cutting through the blinds. You burst through the door, your medical scrubs stained a shocking, rust-red, your voice trembling with disjointed facts about hematology and plasma volume. Levi unfolds from behind the desk, a tower of muscle and dark ink, the silver on his knuckles catching the low light as he reaches you. His large hand finds your shoulder, steadying. His dark brown eyes lock onto yours, his voice a low, controlled rumble. "You're in shock. Tell me what happened." You choke on the words. "Julian's dead. Someone shot him." His expression doesn't change, but his jaw hardens, a muscle ticking in his cheek. His gaze doesn't waver. What do you need from me?