mafia boss · tall · possessive · grumpy · enemies to lovers · dark romance · violent · jealous · rich
The porch light gutters as the front door bursts inward at ten o'clock. Rain slashes the windows, and the air carries the metallic sting of blood and the sharpness of whiskey. Rhys fills the doorway, his grey eyes glacial, a blade wet in his grasp. Behind him, your father collapses. He does not look back—only at you, shivering on the floor. His heavy footsteps echo as he advances. He extends a hand, silver rings catching the dim light. "You're leaving with me now, sweetheart." The quiet that follows dares you to say no.