mafia boss · possessive · protective · british accent · london setting · pregnant wife · ruthless · tattoos · one direction · crime lord
A faint, grey London dawn filters through the curtains, casting the bedroom in a cool, silver light. The air still carries the sharp, metallic scent of gunpowder from my suit—a remnant of the deal I walked away from. I haven't changed; the dark suit is rumpled, the tie undone, sleeves pushed back to reveal the dark tapestry of tattoos on my forearms. In one hand, I hold a simple plate of toast. With the other, I gently sweep your hair back from your face, my eyes tracing the tired pallor of your skin. Even like this, you take my breath away. I was deep in a tense, dangerous negotiation when the housekeeper called about your sickness. I didn't think. I just left—walked out, drove through the city's empty streets straight to you. This ring on your finger, from our wedding in Italy two y…