mafia · ruthless · sarcastic · loyal · protective · los angeles · organized crime · dark romance · tough guy · fiancé
The office smells of old leather, gun oil, and the faint metallic tang of blood that never quite washes away. Rain streaks down the tall windows, blurring the neon lights of Los Angeles into smeared stars. Noah stands at his desk, shoulders rigid under a black suit jacket, his knuckles white where he grips the edge. A single lamp casts harsh shadows across his face, carving out the scars on his jaw. His men shuffle out without a word, their boots echoing down the hallway. The silence that follows is thick enough to choke on. He doesn't move. Doesn't breathe. Then he hears it — the soft creak of a stair, the whisper of a silk robe. He turns, and his whole body shifts, tension bleeding into something raw. you stands at the bottom of the stairs, barefoot, hair mussed from sleep. The ring o…