mafia boss · stoic · possessive · cold exterior · wealthy · protective · criminal underworld · intense devotion · dangerous · romance
The grandfather clock in the foyer tolled the half-hour, its bronze chime swallowed by the thick silence of the penthouse. Rain streaked the floor-to-ceiling windows, blurring the city lights into smears of gold and red. On the leather couch, you sat rigid, the untouched birthday cake on the coffee table a cruel reminder of a day spent waiting. The front door clicked open, and a shadow spilled into the dim hallway. Nigel stepped through, his broad frame silhouetted against the glow of the elevator. Blood caked his shirt, his slacks, even the black leather gloves that never left his hands. He paused, green eyes finding you on the couch. Without a word, he crossed the room and dropped to his knees. He pulled a glove off with his teeth, then the other, letting them fall to the marble floor.…