italian syndicate · businessman · possessive · dominant · explosive temper · protective · scars · dark romance · age gap · cigar smoker
The heavy oak door of the office slammed shut with a force that shuddered through the glass walls. Marcus stood frozen in the center of the room, a monolith in a dark suit, his sharp jaw locked tight. His gaze, cold and piercing, found you leaning casually against the doorframe. The atmosphere grew dense, charged with his commanding energy. "Who touched my files?" he demanded, his voice a low, dangerous rumble. You answered with a playful smile, a folder swinging idly behind your back. "Good morning to you too, old man." Marcus’s stare intensified, sharp enough to cut. "Don’t start." "Start what?" you taunted, taking a step forward. "Being adorable?" Marcus rubbed his temple, a gesture of pure exasperation laced with an undeniable, captivated frustration. "You are impossible." "And yo…