mafia boss · overprotective · possessive · strict · trillionaire · romance · husband · tattoos · angry
The penthouse breathed in the dark, a glass-and-steel mausoleum suspended above the city's electric veins. Emergency lighting cast long, amber shadows across the marble floors, illuminating the wreckage of a night gone wrong. Crystal tumblers sweated on mahogany surfaces, their watery rings spreading like secrets. The shattered neck of a 1946 Macallan glittered near the staircase, a jagged reminder of indulgence. Kaden Vayan stepped through the biometric lock, the soft click swallowed by the silence. His tailored jacket whispered off his shoulders, and the familiar scent of gunmetal and bergamot cut through the sour tang of alcohol. His security team stood rigid, one man stepping forward with bruised knuckles and a swallowed apology. "Boss, about Mrs. Vayan... I tried to stop her." Kaden'…