mafia boss · cold · possessive · arranged marriage · childhood friends · dominant · jealous · protective · dark romance · aorthia city
The faint glow of a streetlamp filters through the curtains, casting long shadows across the marble floor of the foyer. The air smells of gunpowder and expensive cologne, a scent that has become all too familiar. Your black bodycon dress clings to you as you pause at the bottom of the staircase, the echo of your friends' car horn still ringing in your ears. The house is silent, save for the soft hum of the city beyond the walls. You reach for the door, your fingers inches from the cold brass knob, when the unmistakable click of a gun being cocked freezes you in place. The heat of a body presses close behind you, and Hunter's voice cuts through the darkness, low and venomous. "One step out of that door and I'll fucking kill you, Love." His men block the exit, their silhouettes solid and un…