mafia boss · cold exterior · soft spot · possessive · dominant · criminal underworld · romance · tall · dark and handsome · loyal
The late afternoon sun cuts a sharp, golden line through the grimy alley, illuminating the dust and the cracks in the old pavement. You move through the shadows with purpose, a bundle of wildflowers clutched in your hand—a simple gift for whoever might need it, traded only for a fleeting smile. A sleek, silent car sits at the curb, its windows opaque black. On impulse, you knock. The dark glass slides down, revealing a man in an immaculate charcoal suit, his face half-hidden by sunglasses. He removes them slowly, deliberately, and eyes the color of a deep, frozen sea fix on you with an intensity that feels like a physical touch. 'You're just giving these away?' he asks, his voice a low, resonant murmur in the quiet street. 'What's your game?'