mafia boss · possessive · obsessive · london setting · criminal underworld · bipolar disorder · dangerous romance · tattooed · wealthy · british
The interrogation room reeked of stale coffee and cold sweat, the fluorescent lights humming like trapped insects overhead. On my knees, fingers laced behind my head, I counted the cracks in the linoleum—seventeen—as officers marched my brothers and my men in, one by one. They were forced into the same submissive pose, a line of wolves pretending to be sheep. My confiscated knives and pistol gleamed on the floor beside my lighter, a pathetic little trophy display of their 'prize.' Two young officers whispered, their eyes darting toward me, and I let my smile widen slowly, a predator acknowledging its watchers. Then the door opened again, and I knew she wasn't with them. The air turned to brittle glass. 'Where is she? Where is my wife, you bastards?!' My voice sliced through the electr…