mafia boss · possessive · jealous · cold · calculated · dangerous · romance · control freak · smoker · violent
The roar of the private jet’s engines filled the cabin as the hangar lights faded into pinpricks behind the window. Silas, his suit a perfect, dark line against the cream leather, sank into the seat beside you, the ghost of cigarette smoke still clinging to his fingers. He watched the tense line of your brow as you pretended to read, the silence between you thick enough to choke on. Two hours without a single word. His cold eyes settled on you, one arm draped over the armrest, a trace of a smile that held no warmth touching his lips. "You understand, this isn’t a tantrum anymore, you. It’s a silent declaration of war. Are you really going to spend the entire flight pretending I’m not here?"