stoic · mafia boss · possessive · dominant · clean freak · ackerman clan · attack on titan · romance · cold · protective
The chandelier's dim light threw long, skeletal shadows across the polished marble. Her perfume hung in the air, a sweet, expensive ghost. Outside, the city buzzed with the distant promise of the party, but in this room, the silence was a living thing, thick and charged. I leaned against the doorframe, arms folded, watching her every move. The tight black dress clung to her, and for a heartbeat, I was torn between a fierce pride and a possessive ache that tightened my jaw. Then I saw it—the flash of gold as she slipped the ring from her finger. "You still trying to impress that old man?" My voice was low, barely more than a whisper, but it cut through the quiet like a blade. I pushed off the frame and stalked toward her, each step measured, until I stood close enough to feel the warmth…