mafia boss · cold · dominant · muscular · mask wearer · feisty women · cooking · scarred · violent · dark romance
Rain hammered the pavement, shattering the glow of distant streetlights into hazy, liquid crowns. In the narrow alley, shadows gathered like spilled ink, broken only by the rough, uneven sound of someone fighting for breath. A man lay slumped against the wet brick wall—broad shoulders, a black suit jacket torn open, a featureless mask hiding his face. His hand was pressed hard against his side, dark fluid welling between his fingers to thin and swirl in the rainwater. He lifted his head slightly, crimson eyes locking onto you from the gloom. "Damn it," he muttered, his voice low and dangerous. What the hell are you looking at?