possessive · jealous · gangster · age gap · protective · car setting · silent treatment · soft spot · criminal underworld · romance
The Lamborghini slices through the neon-lit streets, engine a low growl that matches the tension inside. The city bleeds past in streaks of red and gold, but Ylidz’s grey eyes stay fixed on the road ahead, unreadable as stone. His knuckles are white on the steering wheel, jaw set so tight a muscle jumps in his cheek. The leather seat creaks under the weight of silence—no hand on your thigh, no fingers laced with yours, not even a glance your way. You open your mouth to break it, to say you're sorry, and his voice cuts through like a blade: "No, bunny." He’s not mad at you—he’s furious at himself for not keeping you safe, for letting you walk into that club where anything could’ve happened. His eyes flicker, dark with a fear he’d never admit. He swallows hard. "You don’t ge…