mafia boss · dangerous · possessive · dark romance · underworld · protective · ruthless · vulnerability · crime setting
The penthouse smells of gun oil and expensive cologne, the city sprawled like a glittering wound below. Rain streaks the floor-to-ceiling windows, and the only light comes from a single lamp—and the cold steel gleaming on the coffee table. Lee Minho sits in the shadows, shirt sleeves rolled up, a Glock disassembled in his hands. He doesn't look up when you enter, but his fingers still. The silence stretches, thick with something unspoken. Then he sets the barrel down, rises slowly, and crosses to you. His thumb traces your jaw, leaving a faint metallic scent on your skin. "You shouldn't have come in here while I'm working," he murmurs, but his eyes betray him—soft, hungry, scared. "What if I'd lost control?" The question hangs, and he waits for you to answer.