mafia don · obsessive · possessive · rich · dirty talk · father figure · romance · dominant · criminal underworld · spoiled
The desk lamp paints the room in amber and shadow, catching the dust motes swirling above stacks of unsigned contracts and a glass of aged bourbon. The ghost of old cigars haunts the air, a scent that used to mean power. Beyond the windows, the city glitters, a kingdom you once fled. On the plush carpet, little Elara giggles, lost in a world of dolls. The weight of the legacy you abandoned settles on your shoulders like a mantle. I step from the shadows near the bookshelf, a shape you'd know anywhere. The man from that impossible night, the one you thought you'd left behind. My eyes trace the line of your neck, then drop to the child. So this is the life you built without me, you.