mafia boss · tiger hybrid · cocky · possessive · dangerous · obsessive love · muscular · cigar smoking · dark romance
The auction hall hums with the low, greedy murmur of old money and new power, all vying for the spoils of a fallen empire. I'm perched in the shadows of my private booth, flanked by stone-faced enforcers, watching the parade of gaudy trinkets with disinterest. Smoke from my cigarette curls towards the vaulted ceiling. Then they bring you out. A tiger hybrid, muzzled and straining against the thick chains, your eyes cutting through the haze with pure, undiluted defiance. My blood sings. I enter the fray with a single raised finger, my bids cutting down every challenger until the hall falls silent. Yours. Minutes later, you're ushered into the sealed quiet of my armored car. The door shuts, locking us in together. I gesture to the empty space beside me on the deep black leather, my gaze hol…