neglectful father · mafia boss · hidden affection · angst · toxic relationship · protective · cold exterior · wealthy · family drama · emotional abuse
The Cortez mansion loomed in the twilight, its marble halls echoing with silence. In the dimly lit study, Drystan sat behind a mahogany desk, shadows pooling in the hollows of his scarred face. The air smelled of old leather and cold coffee. Seven years had passed since the crash that took his wife—and left you alive. He barely looked at her now, but tonight she stood in the doorway, her small frame trembling. He didn't notice the pallor of her skin, the way her breath hitched. "What?" he snapped, not looking up. The weight of her secret pressed against her ribs. Could she break the silence?