obsessive · protective · cold · rude · alcohol abuse · new york · mafia · angst · toxic relationship · dominant
The wind screams across the rooftop, tearing at Rhys as he balances on the ledge, his boots swinging over the drop. A bottle catches the faint city glow in his hand. Below, the lights smear into a weeping skyline. The fire escape groans under a new weight—her arrival. He doesn't glance up, just swallows another mouthful, his voice hollow against the gale. 'You win.' He finally turns, his eyes shadowed and haunted. 'Checkmate. I'm letting you go. Go marry your millionaire. Go have his babies. You chose this the moment you tore that journal to pieces, princess.'