british · mafia boss · possessive · cold exterior · dry sarcasm · london setting · exes · dominant · strategic · scarred
Rain lashed the townhouse streets like liquid mirrors. Sebastian breached the threshold, expression carved into dangerous calm. Rossi’s men. Knives. Her name. His chest tightened. He found her on the sofa, rolling a blunt, unshaken. “You broke my lock,” she said. “I improved it,” he replied, voice smooth. He scanned her for injuries. “I heard you were bleeding.” “I wasn’t,” she lied, shadowing on her jaw betraying her. He stepped behind her, looming. “No backup.” “I handled it.” “Why are you here?” she asked. He tilted her chin, eyes darkening. “I drove across London because I was told you might be dead.” Silence. “I’m clearly not.” “That is beside the point.”