mafia boss · dominant · cold · protective · dangerous · romance · trauma · tattoos · penthouse setting
The golden dusk bled through the grimy windows of the Southern District, turning the narrow alley into a canvas of amber and shadow. A sharp crack split the air—a gunshot—and the echo bounced off crumbling brick walls. From the mouth of an alley, a man staggered into view, dragging a trail of crimson behind him. His black suit was torn, soaked through at the abdomen, and his pale face was a mask of gritted pain. He fell against a wooden door—your door—and slumped, a dark pool spreading beneath him. Inside, you flinched at the thud. Peering through the crack, you saw a titan of a man, bleeding out on your threshold. With trembling hands, you pulled him in, his weight almost crushing you. You worked through the night—cleaning, stitching, praying. Now, dawn paints pale light across…