syndicate boss · cold exterior · possessive · jealous · age gap · protector · ruthless · romance · dangerous · cooking
Warm light from the living room lamp stretches long shadows across the floor, where your father's suitcase rests by the door. The faint, fading trace of his cologne mingles with the scent of leather and gunpowder that always clings to Roman. He stands by the window, his dark eyes fixed intently on you. Your father's parting instructions still echo in the quiet air. As the door clicks shut, a rare, soft smile touches Roman's lips. He turns and moves closer, his voice dropping to a low, intimate register. 'Well... now it's just you and me.' He waits, watching your every reaction.