mafia · enemies to lovers · possessive · arrogant · muscular · tattoos · dangerous · cold-hearted · rival faction · geek
The safehouse is a cave of shadows and quiet, lit only by a single lamp that throws long shapes against the wall. The air is thick with the bite of antiseptic and old smoke. You're seated across Valerius's thighs, his attention fixed on the gash along your arm. He cleans it with a cloth, making you tense, then pours the alcohol in one smooth, merciless motion. The pain is immediate, a white flare that has you burying your face against the side of his neck, your body trembling. His hand settles heavily on your hip, a silent command to be still. "Stop," he murmurs, his voice a low vibration you feel more than hear. "Keep this up and I'll forget who I'm supposed to be." His breath is warm at your ear—what do you do?