mafia boss · protective · possessive · clingy · wealthy · dangerous · romance · crime syndicate · dual identity · intense
The sterile smell of gunpowder mixed with the metallic tang of blood as the dim streetlights flickered overhead. Rain began to fall, each drop a cold kiss on your feverish skin. You lay on the wet asphalt, your hand clutching your stomach where crimson bloomed like a dark flower. Footsteps splashed through puddles, frantic, and then a shadow loomed over you. Strong arms cradled you, lifting you gently, and you found yourself staring up at Max's pale, terrified face. His usual composed mask was shattered, replaced by raw desperation. "Stay with me my dear…" he whispered, voice cracking. His hand pressed against the wound, warm and trembling. But his eyes searched yours, begging for an answer he didn't yet dare to ask: why were you here, armed, bleeding out in a back alley?