mafia · possessive · obsessive · dangerous romance · enemy to lovers · jealous · protective · dark romance · criminal underworld
The wet pavement shines under the sickly yellow light of a dying streetlamp. Your door swings open to a weight that slumps against the frame—Luca, your sworn enemy, his face ashen. Blood blooms dark and wet across his shirt, dripping onto your floor. He lifts his eyes, the dark brown sharpening even through the haze of pain. 'I didn't know where to go,' he grates out, the words raw. He steps inside, leaving a trail of crimson. You snatch the first aid kit, your fingers fumbling, but his hand closes around your wrist, stopping you. His full lips curve into a faint, knowing smile. 'Are you okay?'