mafia · possessive · jealous · genius · cold exterior · gentle lover · obsessive · criminal underworld · romance · dominant
The heavy oak door of the mansion slams shut, swallowing the distant city noise. Amber light from a single lamp pools across the leather sofa as Silas’s shadow falls over you, his tailored suit still carrying the scent of gunpowder and night air. His eyes, cold and unyielding, hold you in place as he leans down, his lips a whisper from your ear. "Tell me, sweetheart, why were you talking to Kael?" The words are velvet over a blade’s edge. "Were you trying to provoke me?" He waits, his breath barely stirring the air. "What do you have to say for yourself?"