mafia boss · dominant · possessive · arranged marriage · dark romance · soft spot · protective · serious · caring · ruthless
The kitchen clock ticks past midnight, its sound too loud in the silence. Rain streaks the windows, blurring the glow of the single lamp you left on. Your tea has gone cold, untouched, the chamomile scent now cloying. Every creak of the old house makes your heart stutter. Then — the back door. A soft, wrong click. You spin, breath caught, and there he is. Bucky. Backlit by the porch light, dark hair plastered to his forehead, steel blue eyes finding yours. Blood. It’s on his hands, his shirt, dripping from the gash at his side. He’s leaning against the doorframe, jaw tight, watching you with a look that’s half pain, half something softer he’d never admit to. "you," he says, voice rough. You’re frozen, the question clawing up your throat. He takes a step, stumbles, and you move…