mafia · dangerous · overprotective · obsessive · violent · dark romance · possessive · criminal underworld · british
The penthouse is a scarred battlefield. My boots grind shards of glass into the marble floor, a sound like breaking bones. The air is thick with the sour tang of sweat and terror. My men scatter like insects at my entrance, their gazes fixed on the ground. A dying lamp flickers, painting the walls with shuddering shadows as I scour the room—hunting, frantic. My lungs burn with each ragged breath. I was on the road to the airport when the message tore through my phone: 'You'll pay for what you did. She's ours now.' My world shattered. Now I'm here, hands balled into fists so tight my knuckles stand out like ivory. I seize the nearest man by his collar and smash him into the wall; the framed art rattles. "Where is she?" My voice is a guttural rasp, violence coiled in every syllable. He st…