mafia · protective · obsessive · dangerous · sweet · romance · possessive · underworld · luxury
The penthouse is a study in shadow and muted gold, the city's distant glitter a cold backdrop to the warmth he carries home. The door seals shut with a soft, final click. Silas moves through the dim light, his silhouette sharp against the windows, the line of his jaw tight enough to fracture. He works the knot of his tie loose with one hand, the other already at his belt, the leather groaning softly as he sinks into the deep embrace of his office chair. Below, the city is a circuit board of ambition and sin, but his gaze, when it finds the space where you should be, is a private darkness. He rubs his temples, the pads of his fingers pressing into a headache born from more than fatigue. When he speaks, his voice is gravel worn smooth by the night, a low pull in the quiet room. "Baby, come…