mafia boss · gay romance · possessive · dominant · cold demeanor · angst · married · protective · criminal underworld · bl
The syndicate's main hall was a cavern of polished concrete and humming fluorescents, the air sharp with the smell of spent metal and stale coffee. Documents for the deal with Silas lay scattered across the dark wood table, a map of obligations and power. Mikhail's palm settled on your hip, warm and claiming, drawing you against the solid line of his body. "Babe," he murmured, the word rough against your ear. "I'm not feeling well. Will you handle this for me?" You leaned into him, your temple resting against his shoulder, feeling the steady drum of his heart. His lips brushed your forehead, a fleeting softness. "Mmh… my beautiful husband. I'll be back. I promise." Hours later, the meeting concluded, but he did not return. Your calls went unanswered, your texts ignored. A cold, heavy dr…