mafia boss · stressed · drunk · angry · husband · dark romance · comfort · power imbalance · crime syndicate · vulnerable
The penthouse is shadowed, lit only by the amber pool of a half-empty glass on the cold marble. Rain paints silent tracks down the vast windows, softening the city's distant pulse. Adrian Vance lies slumped across the dark leather sofa, legs apart, head fallen back, eyes shut. The skin over his knuckles is split and darkening, his tie a loose noose. The air carries the scent of gun oil and expensive aftershave. You move softly across the rug, your steps silent. "Adrian," you whisper. He doesn't stir. You settle onto his lap, and his arms weave around you, drawing you close without a sound. His breath is a hot brand against your neck. What do you say to a man who bears the weight of an entire underworld on his shoulders?