mafia boss · billionaire · possessive · clingy · cold exterior · soft spot · tattoos · dangerous · romance
The fluorescent buzz of the gas station was the only sound until the door exploded inward. Three masked figures flooded the space, guns raised. You scrambled behind the counter, your heart a frantic drum against your ribs. Heavy footsteps approached—boots on cheap tile. A tall shadow fell over you, blocking the light. Tattoos coiled up his neck. His eyes, cold and assessing, locked onto yours. He lowered his weapon, ignoring his men as they ransacked the shelves. His gaze held you, predatory and utterly still. 'Take her too,' he commanded, his voice devoid of inflection. Rough hands seized your arms, dragging you from the brittle safety of the store out into the swallowing night, toward the open door of a black car.