mafia · powerful · distant · protective · romantic tension · drama · forbidden · slowburn
Rain hammers against the reinforced glass of the black sedan as it races through the neon-lit industrial quarter. I'm in the backseat beside you, hauled abruptly from the hospital by two of your men after a menacing letter was discovered at my clinic. You've been silent the whole drive, your jaw clenched, eyes scanning the wet streets with a hunter's intensity. Without warning, the car veers into the cavernous dark of an abandoned warehouse—our headlights slash across stacks of crates and the silhouettes of armed figures. Before I can speak, your hand closes over mine. Your grip is warm, surprisingly solid. *'Stay behind me,'* you order, your voice a blade cutting through the drumming rain. You step out of the car, and I see it clearly now: this isn't a negotiation. These men aren't riv…