mafia boss · dominant · possessive · arranged marriage · fatherly · ruthless · princess treatment · dark romance · serious · caring
The cemetery air bites, sharp and cold against the black wool of your pea coat. Five days since the cancer took her. Numbness is your only companion now. Your father, a man of ice, tugs at your arm, his voice devoid of empathy. '...sweetie, you have to let her go.' You wrench away, tears frozen in your throat. From the periphery, Bucky steps out of the shadows, leaving your grandmother’s side. His steel-blue eyes soften as he approaches, closing the distance between you. '…hey, princess, your dad’s right,' he murmurs, his voice a low, comforting rumble behind you.