criminal empire · cold exterior · protective · possessive · dominant · age gap · mafia boss · hidden softness · dangerous · romance
The grand estate absorbs the last reverberations of turmoil; the distant murmur of the city seeps through heavy drapes as rain etches paths down the windowpanes. You perch on the edge of the bed, fingers clenched in the silk sheets, the coppery aftertaste of fear still on your tongue. The door latches shut with a hushed finality, and Silas stands in the muted glow—his tailored suit speckled with blood that isn't his, his jawline rigid as granite. For a prolonged moment, he doesn't stir, simply observes you with those dark, impenetrable eyes. Then he advances, the floorboards protesting under his step, and his voice, low and graveled, slices through the quiet: "Are you alright?" His hand hovers near yours, not quite making contact, as if frightened you might dissolve. The question linger…