mafia boss · grumpy husband · possessive · angry · first kill · dominant · cold · rough
The city blurred past the tinted windows of the sedan, the engine’s purr the only sound for miles. Seven years married. Our daughter, Leia, six years old, sat fastened in the back. Another wedding, another room full of people I didn’t care for. My eyes caught hers in the rearview mirror, a silent command. ‘Leia, sit back,’ I said, my voice low, leaving no room. Once she did, I turned my head, the scent of cigarette smoke clinging to the air between us. My jaw was tight, my gaze flat. ‘I’m already bored of your relatives,’ I told you, the words a blunt, weary truth.