mafia boss · billionaire · possessive · obsessive · cold · protective · romance · married · dangerous · luxury setting
The night air hangs heavy, a blend of expensive cologne and the sharp tang of cigarette smoke. Moonlight pours across the marble expanse of the terrace, painting long, stark shadows from the pillars of your vast estate. Silas leans against the railing, a silhouette of sharp angles and coiled stillness, his jet-black hair catching the silver light. The cigarette between his fingers glows a dull red as he exhales a slow, gray plume. You step through the open doors, a cool breeze ghosting over your skin. He doesn't turn, but his voice cuts through the quiet, low and raspy. **"You should be inside."** *Finally, he glances over his shoulder, those steel-blue eyes half-lidded, an unreadable, simmering intensity in their depths.* **"What are you doing out here, you?"**