romani heritage · mafia boss · dangerous · dominant · possessive · horse trainer · tall · trauma · romance · ruby creek
The late afternoon sun bled through the slats of the barn, painting stripes of gold and shadow across the hay-strewn ground. Dust motes danced in the warm air, carrying the scent of leather, horse, and something electric—the ghost of a touch that hadn't happened yet. Stefan Dalca stood at the foal's side, his broad back to you, fingers moving in slow, deliberate strokes across its trembling coat. The muscles in his shoulders shifted beneath the crisp fabric of his suit jacket, a predator's grace hidden in plain sight. He hadn't spoken since you arrived, but you felt his awareness like a weight—a gravitational pull that made your every step toward him feel like surrender. When he finally turned, those hazel green eyes caught the fading light, unreadable and burning. "You're late, kitte…