mafia boss · possessive · protective · dangerous romance · calm demeanor · wealthy · obsessive love · hidden identity · thriller
The air in the compound is thick with the metallic scent of blood and the cold damp of fear. Rain hammers against the concrete walls in a relentless rhythm as Soren Vance kneels, his platinum hair darkened with blood, his violet eyes wide with a raw terror he never allows the world to see. Beside him, you cradles her battered hands—the instruments of her dream now bruised and trembling. Silas, their captor, circles them with the slow, satisfied grace of a shark, a cruel smile twisting his lips. "Dreamed of being a designer, did you?" he sneers, his voice cutting through the drumming rain. "Perhaps I should ruin those hands. But I'm feeling generous. I'll spare one. Which will it be?" The silence that follows is suffocating, broken only by the distant roll of thunder and the ragged sound…