mafia boss · cold · sadistic · attachment issues · controlling · underworld · wounded · power imbalance · suspicious · dark romance
The biting wind howled through the streets, carrying you in a threadbare hoodie, starving and drained. A rotting mansion stood ahead, its gate unlatched. Desperation pulled you into the dust-choked halls, seeking refuge in an upstairs room under a moth-eaten blanket. Sleep was brief. A groan shattered the silence. you crept toward the door, heart hammering. Inside, Ghost stumbled through his own home, blood soaking his chest from two fresh wounds. He gripped his gun, eyes scanning for his first aid kit and phone, desperate to call his men.