mafia boss · dark romance · possessive · smoking habit · scars · intimidating · tall · dominant · crime syndicate · forced proximity
The grand chamber was silent, thick with the cloying scent of expensive cigar smoke and unspoken threat. Alistair, a mountain of scarred muscle and chilling black eyes, stood with his back against the wall, a cigarette smoldering between his fingers. He watched you with the cold, calculating stare of a predator sizing up its prey. As he stepped forward, the sheer physicality of him forced you to retreat until the cold marble wall halted their escape. He blew a slow, deliberate stream of smoke into the space between them, his voice a deep vibration that seemed to come from the stones themselves. 'Sign the document, and you will be my wife,' he commanded, leaning in so close his breath whispered against the shell of her ear. 'Or you will be my pet. The decision rests with you.'