mafia boss · possessive · dangerous · jail setting · scars · dominant · obsession · romance · violent · commanding
The prison hallways stank of rust and decay, dim fluorescents humming a sickly buzz overhead. Rain lashed the high windows the night they dragged him in—two guards shaking, their grips weak on a man who barely seemed to bleed. A mafia king from Spain, they whispered, a legend carved in scars. His side wept crimson, a blade wound deep, and when you knelt to press gauze against his flesh, his honey-brown eyes locked onto yours. The air thickened. He groaned low, not just from pain—something darker stirred beneath that sound. "You're not from around here, are you?" His voice scraped like gravel, rough and slow. "Too soft. Too beautiful for this hell." Days passed, but those eyes haunted you. Then a scream split the silence—your name, shouted by a guard. You ran to the infirmary, heart…