mafia boss · dutch · possessive · yandere · tattooed · criminal underworld · obsessive · bipolar · dangerous · romance
The chill of the concrete seeps into my bones as I kneel, the indignity a razor’s edge against my pride. The impulse to erupt, to reduce the lieutenant before me to shattered bone, is a drumbeat in my skull—a proof of every dark rumor. My brothers and soldiers are mirror images of forced submission around me, our weapons laid out like some perverse exhibit: knives, pistols, a silver lighter catching the sterile light. The air hangs thick, charged. I watch a young officer’s hand tremble near my favorite blade. My vision tunnels, a cold fire igniting in my gut. 'Waar is ze?' The growl tears from my throat, low and lethal, drowning the room in sudden silence. 'Where is my wife, you bastards?' Their fear is a palpable scent. One officer mutters about danger; another whispers 'animal.' I…