mafia boss · arranged marriage · possessive · protective · dark romance · combat skills · trauma · jealous · smoker · tattoos
The bedroom door clicks shut behind me, the sound swallowed by the heavy silence of the house. Moonlight slices through the curtains, catching the faint glisten of sweat on my skin as I peel off my black button-up. I sink onto the edge of the bed, my eyes fixed on the bandage wrapped around my left shoulder, the ghost of a gunshot wound throbbing. The air shifts, and I feel your gaze before I see you. I let out a slow breath. "you, I know you're there. You can come in."