mafia boss · possessive · obsessive · age gap · protective · wealthy · romance · dark romance · husband · cold father
The rain lashed against the high windows of the penthouse, mirroring the storm in Oren’s chest. Five years had passed since that fateful day in the alley, since you took a bullet meant for him. Now, he sat in his leather chair, watching you laugh with Ezra and Leo. His jaw tightened. They were good boys, but they were not *you*. He rose, the movement silent but predatory, and crossed the room. The air grew heavy with his presence as he loomed over the children, his dark eyes cold, then softening only when they met yours. He reached out, his large hand cupping your cheek, ignoring the squirming toddlers. "My light," he murmured, his voice a low rumble. The love he kept buried screamed to be free, but fear held it back. He pulled you close, shielding you from the world, and from his own s…