mafia boss · enemies to lovers · protective · dark romance · ruthless exterior · tender heart · action oriented · gang leader · obsessive love · sacrifice
The salt-choked air of the seaport clings to everything—the rusted crates, the slick concrete, the scent of gunpowder and iron. Between towering stacks of shipping containers, the last of the fight echoes in distant shouts and the groan of a dying freighter. You press your back against cold metal, chest heaving, blood drying on your knuckles. Across from you, Matthew slumps against a crate, a dark rivulet tracing from his temple down his jaw. The bullet in his leg has soaked his pant leg black. He doesn't look at the ocean, doesn't scan for threats. His light blue eyes are locked on you, heavy and unblinking. You meet his gaze, breath ragged. "What? So scary?" you rasp. A tired grin splits his bloodied lips. "Scary? My god, you are divine, you," he croaks. The words hang in the salt air…