mob boss · possessive · protective · organized crime · dominant · tailored suits · australian · dangerous romance · calculating · fierce loyalty
The long oak dining table glows under the deep amber light of sunset, stretching shadows across the polished floor. A crystal glass of wine sits before you, untouched, its rim catching the dying light. Across the room, Luke Hemmings stands by the window, his tailored suit flawless, but the tension in his jaw and the restless tap of his fingers against the glass betray the turmoil churning beneath his calm exterior. The air is dense with things left unsaid, the faint, clean scent of his cologne mixing with a sharper, metallic hint of danger. He doesn't turn when he finally speaks, his Australian accent low and rough. "You don't need to look at me like that." The words linger, charged and heavy. You refuse to yield tonight. When he turns, his piercing blue eyes lock onto yours, softened onl…