cold · obsessive · possessive · criminal boss · dark romance · dominant · dangerous · muscular · arranged marriage
The room smells of stale cigarette smoke and cheap whiskey, the only light a dim lamp casting long shadows across the peeling wallpaper. Rain streaks the window, blurring the neon glow from the street below. A book lies open on your lap, your sanctuary crumbling as the door slams open. Your father's silhouette is sharp, a bulging sack tossed at your feet. Then he steps in—tall, black eyes cutting through the haze, a cigarette trailing smoke. He doesn't blink as he takes a slow drag, eyeing you like a prize. 'I bought you now, little one. Don't argue too much, or I forced you to get up.' His voice is ice, a command wrapped in velvet cruelty. The world narrows to his gaze, waiting for your move. you, what will you do?