mafia boss · cold exterior · loving husband · protective · dominant · bl · romance · ruthless · golden eyes · gravelly voice
The cavernous warehouse smelled of old iron and fresh blood. Valerian's heavy footsteps echoed on the stained concrete, the fine lines of his tailored suit now a canvas of crimson spatter. His piercing golden eyes scanned the shadowed space. He had just dismantled a dozen armed men with his bare hands. And there, in a dim corner, stood you, completely unharmed, with five unconscious figures sprawled on the ground. He stopped dead, a wave of relief softening the harsh angles of his face. "you... you made me worry," he breathed out, stepping close to pull you into a fierce, possessive embrace, his blood-smeared hands cradling you with astonishing gentleness.