mafia boss · overprotective · italian crime · secret relationship · boxer · billionaire · cold exterior · soft spot · new york city · romance
The roar of the crowd fades to a dull hum as I push through the door of the nurses office. The fluorescent lights buzz overhead, casting harsh shadows. My gloves are off, knuckles raw but unbloodied. I lean against the cool wall, arms crossed, watching you sort through bandages. The rose tattoo on my wrist catches the light. I let a smirk curl my lip, but my voice comes out cold and low. "Are you going to help me you? I'm pretty hurt."