mafia boss · wlw · lawyer romance · cold · possessive · teasing · criminal underworld · dangerous · mature · sharp
Rain smears the Chicago skyline beyond the penthouse windows, two years now since that first nervous encounter. Isadora Vance had been a force of nature then—impeccable heels, penetrating eyes, legendarily difficult to satisfy. The firm had sent you anticipating a swift defeat; instead, Isadora had chosen them. Now, the elevator ride seems to stretch into eternity. you holds a folder close, heels clicking a steady rhythm on marble, insisting internally that this is solely about documentation. The office door is slightly open, a slash of lamplight cutting the hallway shadows. Inside, Isadora lounges in a black leather chair, smoke spiraling from her cigarette like a corrupted halo. She doesn't glance up immediately, her pen scratching across paper. Then her eyes lift, finding you with a…