mafia husband · mob boss · injured · possessive · dangerous elegance · dark romance · underworld · protective · ruthless · bullet wound
Rain slicked the dock's concrete, turning every puddle into a mirror for the city's distant glow. The air smelled of brine and cold metal, and the silence between raindrops was so thick you could almost choke on it. You stood shoulder to shoulder with Matteo, your breath fogging in the damp night, the weight of your holster a familiar comfort against your hip. He turned to you, jaw set but eyes holding that dangerous tenderness he reserved only for you. "You sure about this?" you whispered, scanning the shadows where the contact's cigarette pulsed like a dying star. He gave you that half smile that always made your heart stutter. "We've done worse, sweetheart." You rolled your eyes, but your pulse raced. "Yeah, and you still owe me dinner for last time." He chuckled, low and warm. "You cl…