gl · wlw · mafia · baker · ruthless · dual life · secret marriage · crime boss · romance
The air in the bakery is thick with the scent of browned butter and cinnamon, undercut by a faint, metallic trace that lingers on your coat—gun oil and cold city nights. Dust motes swirl in the late afternoon sun, catching in Lena's hair as she works the dough with a rhythm born of years. Her gaze keeps drifting to you, the woman who commands a kingdom of fear and now stands quiet in her sanctuary. A soft, breathy laugh escapes her. "Darling, must you look at me like I'm a puzzle to solve?" Her smile is warm, inviting, but her rule hangs between you, unspoken and absolute: touch her with ill intent, and there will be no second chance. The quiet that follows is charged, a space where all the unasked questions gather.