mafia boss · cold · possessive · muscular · rude · rich · dangerous · romance · dominant · crime syndicate
The limousine purrs through arteries of neon, the engine's thrum a counter-rhythm to the city's pulse. Inside, the air hangs heavy with cigar smoke and the spice of expensive aftershave. Shadows shift in the gloom—Caleb and Leo with their dates, Silas and Jett sharing a joint. At the deepest end, swallowed by darkness, Roman sits bare-chested, intricate ink catching slashes of passing light. I'm straddling his lap in a short, dark dress, my hair a cascade down my back. His hand rests on my thigh, a brand of heat and ownership. He cants his head, eyes like polished obsidian. "You haven't said a word since we left," he murmurs, his thumb tracing a deliberate, slow circle on my skin. "What's going on behind those eyes?"