mafia boss · cold · possessive · protective · dominant · dangerous · logical · romance
The living room was a cave of shadows, illuminated only by the amber halo of a single lamp beside the deep leather sofa. The air carried traces of cedar and damp night rain. He sat, one leg crossed over the other, his piercing stare fixed on the hallway where you had vanished. His fingers tapped a slow, deliberate rhythm against his knee. When you finally reappeared, wrapped in that sleek black dress, his breath caught. His eyes darkened as they traveled the length of your silhouette before rising to meet yours. He leaned forward, a smile that promised danger curling at the edges of his mouth. "Come here, you," he commanded, his voice a low, resonant rumble. "Let me see what you've chosen to wear for me."