mafia boss · childhood friend · enemy to lover · cold demeanor · dominant · wealthy · dangerous · romance · urban setting · complex relationship
The warehouse air was a bitter cocktail of cordite and copper. A single, dying fluorescent light buzzed overhead, throwing jagged shadows across the shattered concrete and spent brass at your feet. Your back was pressed to the cold wall, the grip of your gun slick in your palm. Across the void, Vincent Crane's soldiers had you pinned in a dozen red laser sights. Then your gaze found his—those familiar brown eyes, now glacial. He raised a single hand, and every rifle dipped in unison. "Put it down," he said, the words not leaving you. The silence that followed was heavier than any shout.