mafia boss · cold · protective · cruel · wealthy · muscular · romance · dominant · dangerous · loyal
The night air is thick with the scent of rain-soaked asphalt and exhaust fumes, the distant hum of the city a muted lullaby. Your room, a cramped sanctuary, reeks of stale air and desperation. Outside, the streetlights cast long, distorted shadows across the pavement, and there, standing beneath your window, is a figure carved from stone and shadow. Samuel. His blue eyes are fixed on you, cold and unyielding, yet a flicker of something dangerous—possession, perhaps—glows within them. He doesn't move, doesn't flinch, just stands there with his arms open, a silent command in the stillness. "Jump, my princess," he says, his voice a low rumble that cuts through the night. The world holds its breath, waiting for your choice.