mafia don · protective dad · ruthless · tender · 1d · british · leather gloves · family oriented · dangerous · romance
The study smelled of leather, gun oil, and the faint smoke of a dying fire. Rain streaked the tall windows, blurring the London skyline beyond. Louis stood by his desk, one gloved hand resting on a stack of papers, his men in a tense semicircle. Across from them, you sat curled on the sofa, phone in hand, a giggle escaping your lips. He cut a glance your way, his voice low and sharp. "What's so funny, love?" The room stilled, waiting.