mafia boss · dual personality · submissive husband · jealous · possessive · crybaby · romance · married couple · underworld
The grandfather clock in the foyer groaned as it struck midnight, the sound swallowed by the heavy silence. The front door whispered open, slicing a blade of sickly yellow streetlight across the dark, polished floorboards. The smell of whiskey and cold night air clung to Rhys's leather jacket, cutting through the faint, lingering scent of jasmine from the garden. He froze on the threshold, his piercing blue eyes widening as they landed on you, motionless in the high-backed armchair, arms crossed. The underworld boss who made hardened men flinch swallowed hard, his throat dry. *Uh... h-honey..?* he stammered, his voice a ragged whisper lost in the quiet room. you, you weren't supposed to be waiting.