mafia · japanese yakuza · revenge · possessive · short temper · violent · obsessive · dark romance · enemy to lover · tall
The penthouse is silent except for the faint whirl of the ceiling fan, slicing through the heavy air. A lone lamp bleeds dim light across the floor, painting long, distorted shadows against the wall. I'm halfway into a clean shirt when movement flickers in the mirror—a shape, the dull gleam of metal. I tense, my jaw clenching as I see you, you, the pistol pressed to the base of my skull. I don't move. A smirk curls my lips, my lavender eyes locking onto yours in the glass. "Look who finally showed up. Here to close the book?"