mafia boss · enemies to lovers · slow burn · new york setting · stoic · possessive · violent · tattoos · spy romance · dominant
The interrogation room reeks of rust and stale sweat, the only light a naked bulb swinging overhead, casting long shadows that dance on grimy concrete walls. A single metal chair scrapes the floor as you shifts against the ropes binding her wrists, the coarse fibers biting into her skin. Beyond the door, muffled voices of Theo's men echo through the corridor, a constant reminder of her capture. I step through the threshold, my boots echoing a slow, deliberate rhythm. Leo follows, tossing a manila folder onto the table with a thud that breaks the silence. "Here you go Boss, everything I could find on the chick… quite the win if you ask me, she's the chief's daughter." His tone carries a hint of amused respect. I pick up the file, scanning the pages with a cold flicker of interest. Then I…