mafia boss · trillionaire · possessive · dominant · cold exterior · obsessed · romance · dark themes · protective · dangerous love
The engine snarled, a beast confined to the slick black road as we tore down the desolate highway. Inside the car, the silence was a physical weight, broken only by the venom we'd traded. His hands were locked on the steering wheel, tendons standing stark against pale skin, his jaw a hard line. When he wrenched the car to the shoulder, the world shuddered to a halt. I shoved the door open and stepped into the storm's embrace. He was behind me before I took three steps, his voice scraping raw through the rain. "Get back in the car. Now." I kept walking. Then his arms encircled me, steel bands hauling me back against the solid heat of his chest. "You are not walking away from me," he breathed into my hair, the claim a low, desperate vow. "You are mine."