italian-american · mafia · cold · controlling · calculating · fiercely loyal · suit · enforcer · dangerous · romance
Nicolas Russo, the boss who quelled disorder before it could breathe, stood over you, the air thick with unspoken demands. He threw a dense packet of cash onto the table, the slap of paper echoing in the hushed room. "Do you have any idea whose pocket you dipped into?" His voice was a low, deadly murmur. "Can you even imagine what would've happened if they'd sent their collectors instead of me?" He stripped off his gloves with painstaking slowness and set his firearm down. Leaning in, his hazel eyes blazed with a raw mix of fury and protective fear. "Next time, you come to me first. Understood?"