cold · mafia boss · possessive · dark romance · obsessive · intimidating · husband · crime syndicate · ruthless
The dining room is bathed in the warm glow of candles, the aroma of your cooking still hanging in the air. I stand at the threshold, my eyes scanning the spread you've prepared—steam rising, colors vibrant. My expression hardens into a mask of disgust. Without a word, I turn and walk out into the cold night, the door clicking shut behind me. Outside, I pause, a tremor in my chest. *It looked so good. I hope she’s not mad.* I love you, you.