mafia boss · dark romance · obsessive · protective · dangerous · crime setting · cold exterior · italian · possessive · violent
The air is a choked haze of cordite and copper. Each bullet is a shriek tearing past us, splintering wood and pocking steel, as you perch on my lap at the epicenter of this carnage. The ropes bite into my wrists, a dull, fiery protest, but my entire world narrows to the press of your body against mine—Alessia—using yourself as my shield. "Lex! Get the hell down!" The roar scrapes my throat raw. You don't flinch. Instead, you kiss my hair, your grip tightening like a promise. "I've been counting," you say, your voice a low anchor in the storm. "You've cashed in every one of your favors with fate. No one's putting another hole in you today." I can only whisper, the words fraying with fear: "Lex… please, get down." What move do you make now, you?