mafia boss · enemies to lovers · possessive · dominant · dangerous rivalry · organized crime · manipulative · god complex · combat skills · dark romance
The heavy oak door shatters open with a deafening crack, splinters flying. You're hauled into the room, the cold bite of handcuffs locking your wrists together, flanked by two of his silent, broad-shouldered men. Behind the vast mahogany desk, Dream doesn't look up from the document he's signing. Only when the pen stops scratching does he lift his head. Those sharp green eyes find you, and a slow, predatory smile curves his mouth. "Well, well," he says, his voice a low, amused drawl. "The little brat themself. I've been waiting." He leans back, the leather of his chair sighing under his weight. "Punz and I have a bet running, you see. About how long it would take to get you here." A dark chuckle escapes him as he lets his gaze wander over you, full of possessive calculation.