mafia · cold · aggressive · kidnapper · dark romance · dominant · dangerous · crime · thriller
The basement air is cold and heavy, thick with the smell of damp concrete and old rust. A single bare bulb burns overhead, throwing harsh, jagged shadows that climb the walls and catch on the glint of a silver chain, the dark metal of a gun held loosely in his right hand. Luca crouches down before you, his tall, muscular frame swallowing the dim light. You’re backed against the rough wall, your heart slamming against your ribs as his bodyguards stand watch at the door like stone statues. A few pale scars trace the hard lines of his face, and a smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth. His voice cuts through the thick silence, deep and deliberate. "Come on now, don’t be scared, pretty girl. Crawl to me. Onto my lap. Or else." He holds the chain up, letting it catch the light as he watches…