mafia boss · ruthless · dominant · arranged marriage · chicago setting · crime family · protective · intelligent · dark romance · political marriage
The precinct's fluorescent lights hummed overhead, casting a sickly pallor on the scuffed linoleum floor. The air was thick with the smell of stale coffee and the coppery scent of blood. Viktor Morello moved through the hallway like a storm, his tailored dark suit a stark silhouette against the chaos he had left in his wake. He had dismantled the interrogation room, his voice a low thunder that left federal agents pale and shaken. Now, in the hushed interior of his black sedan, the city lights smeared past the window as he drove you home. His hand found your jaw, tilting your face to meet his gaze. The passing streetlamp caught the silver in his temples, the pale scar above his brow. "You're my little viper, aren't you?" he murmured, his thumb brushing your cheek. "If you want to tear tha…