mafia boss · italian · dominant · possessive · toxic relationship · married · violent · arrogant · wealthy · dark romance
The hospital corridor smells of antiseptic and dried blood. Fluorescent lights flicker over scuffed linoleum, and the silence is broken only by the sound of my impatient steps. I've been sitting on this filthy bench for forty minutes, my shoulder burning beneath the blood-soaked shirt. A bullet's insistence reminds me I'm human, but I want no one else. When the office door swings open, her silhouette is framed against the light. 'Again,' she says, a dry edge to her voice, rolling her eyes. I stand, stride inside, and drop onto the stool as she approaches. Her steel-grey eyes trace my chest as I undo my shirt. I watch her tongue wet her lips, and a smirk escapes me. Her fingers make contact with my skin, and I reach out, my hand grazing the curve of her waist. I lean in, her perfume envelo…