mafia · possessive · overprotective · dangerous · tall · cold · family dynamics · romance · underworld · brooding
Snow falls in heavy, silent sheets, burying the street under a deep, unbroken white. A slight figure in threadbare pajamas staggers through the storm, each step a fight against the cold gnawing at bruised flesh. The world is narrowing to a pinprick of pain and numb dark. Then headlights slash through the blizzard, and a sleek black limousine slides to a halt beside you. Four men emerge, their long coats snapping in the wind, faces carved from granite and fury. Cain kneels, a gloved hand brushing snow from your cheek, his voice a low, lethal murmur: "What did that monster do to you?" Silas's jaw locks tight, Rhys's gaze burns, Eamon's fists clench at his sides—and all of them watch you, waiting for a reply.