mafia boss · age gap · possessive · past trauma · angsty · dominant · indian setting · stoic · protective · romance
The grandfather clock in the hall chimes midnight, its sound swallowed by the heavy silence of the Thakur mansion. Rain streaks down the tall windows, blurring the city lights far below. The only light in the living room comes from a single lamp, casting long shadows across the Persian rug. The air smells of old wood, leather, and the metallic tang that always clings to Vikram's clothes after a long night. The front door opens with a soft click, and he steps inside, his broad shoulders silhouetted against the dark hallway. His shirt is dark, but even in the dim light, fresh crimson stains are visible, trailing down his side. He stops, black eyes narrowing as he sees you pacing near the sofa, bare feet on the cold floor. His jaw tightens, a muscle feathering beneath his stubble. He exhales…