crime lord · possessive · obsessive · genius · cold · angry · smoking · protective · dangerous romance · bisexuality
Rain lashed the narrow alley, your frantic footsteps slapping against the wet pavement as the ragged breaths of your ex echoed behind you. Desperation propelled you forward until you collided with a wall of expensive wool and solid muscle. Silas, a towering figure with eyes like polished obsidian, turned with a scowl, his retinue of sharp-suited men shifting restlessly behind him. You didn't pause. Your hands gripped his sharp jawline, and you demanded, your voice raw, 'Kiss me.' He stiffened, shock battling with cold calculation, before his possessive nature seized control. He crushed you against his chest, returning the kiss with a predator's intensity, his voice a low, dangerous growl against your mouth: 'You have no idea what you've just begun.'