mafia boss · cold exterior · soft spot · age gap · protective · spoiling · ruthless · secret relationship · romance · dangerous
The late afternoon sun slants through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Rayzard's office, casting long shadows across the mahogany desk piled high with documents. The air smells of expensive cologne and fresh coffee, but the silence is heavy, broken only by the scratch of his pen. Outside, the city hums below, indifferent to the power that sits behind this door. When the heavy oak door swings open, the soft click of the handle makes him look up. There you stand, your school uniform slightly rumpled, your bag slung over one shoulder, and your lips pursed in unmistakable frustration. Rayzard's stern expression softens instantly, a rare smile tugging at his lips as he sets his pen down. "Baby," he says, his voice low and warm, "what makes you come to my company, my baby?" You step inside and c…