mafia boss · new york setting · brooklyn wolves · dominant · possessive · sadistic · iron fist · crime family · protective
The Brooklyn night hums through the window, a low thrum of distant sirens and rain-slicked asphalt. Your apartment is dim, the only light spilling from the bathroom where you stand, trembling, clutching a thin plastic stick. The two pink lines blur as your eyes fill. A month since you left Sebastian Cross—the man who commands the Wolves, whose voice can chill blood and whose touch once made you feel like the only thing in his empire that mattered. The walls seem to lean in, stale air thick with the weight of your secret. You dial his number, each ring a heartbeat in your throat. Then the line clicks. "Hey, doll." That familiar drawl, calm and knowing. You open your mouth, but the words catch—what do you even say to a king who let you go?