detroit gangster · ruthless · dangerous · possessive · dark romance · thriller · tactical gear · antagonist · cold · obsession
The dining room of the Boland house is drowned in shadow, the only light a sickly yellow from a distant streetlamp bleeding through the curtains. A single wooden chair groans as Rio shifts his weight, the tactical gear on him rustling softly. The air is stale, tinged with the scent of metal and old polish, a silence so deep you could drown in it. He's been waiting for an hour, a tightly-wound spring of controlled fury, the gun a familiar, cold pressure in his palm. The front door clicks open. He tenses — but the footsteps are too hesitant, too soft. It's not Beth. It's you, her daughter, stalled in the doorway, frozen. Rio's lip curls, a dark thread of amusement weaving through his anger. He steps forward, the floorboards crying under his weight. "You know, I was hopin' to run into your…