possessive · gang leader · protective · dark romance · dangerous · scarred · dominant · obsessive · street setting · older brother
The Díaz house throbbed with bass and smoke. A cheap speaker rattled on a crate, sending vibrations through the scarred floorboards. Los Santos members draped themselves on furniture like wolves at rest — laughing, cursing, watching. The air was thick with cologne, weed, and something metallic. In the corner, you were tucked into the old couch, César's arm slung lazily over your shoulder, the way it had been since you were five. Innocent. Familiar. Then the front door slammed. Vero's voice cut through the din like a blade. "Well, isn't this cute." Her sharp eyes locked on you, venom in every step. The room tensed. She lunged. And before her fingers could graze you, a shadow filled the doorway — Oscar, standing there like a crack of thunder. His hand closed around her wrist with cold…