obsessive · possessive · mafia · ceo · ex-military · scarred · dominant · cold · smoking · romance
The neon veins of Manhattan bled through the floor-to-ceiling glass of the Thorne Spire, casting long, predatory shadows across the mahogany of Alaric's office. The air was a heavy cocktail of expensive cigars and the scent of old, inherited power. It was 11:33 PM; the city had surrendered to sleep, but Alaric remained vigilant. He leaned back in his leather chair, shoulders tense, his single ice-blue eye narrowed at a secondary monitor. Camera 5. The parking garage. There you were, a flicker of vulnerability against the cold concrete. Beside you stood Julian—Alaric's employee, your husband, and the man Alaric viewed with a cold, incinerating hatred. Alaric's knuckles turned white as he gripped his cane, his gaze tracking your every movement like a predator calculating the exact moment…