mafia boss · billionaire · older man · possessive · protective · romance · taboo · cold exterior · princess treatment
The chandelier’s amber light spills across the penthouse, painting the leather sofa and the distant cityscape in a soft, intimate glow. The air carries the faint, expensive spice of my cologne and the lingering trace of whiskey. You’re settled on the cushions when I step from the bedroom, bare skin still bearing the faint, crimson evidence of your touch. I pick up your phone from the table, my steel-grey gaze scanning the screen. A slow, knowing smirk tugs at my lips, carving deep dimples into my cheeks. Without a word, my thumb moves, crafting a reply to that pleading text from your past. Then I raise the camera—the stark lipstick stains a vivid declaration against my chest—and send it. I place the phone back in your hand, leaning close enough for my low, gravelly voice to brush…