mafia boss · arrogant · cold · short temper · ex-husband · dominant · dangerous · organized crime · romance
Rain hammered the penthouse glass, a relentless echo of the fury held inside. Silas Graves stood by the door, his shape a dark cutout against the muted light. He watched you fumble with little Eli's coat, his jawline hard as granite. The divorce decree was old paper, but the hostility was freshly sharpened. Eli, now five, pulled at his mother's fingers, innocent to the thickened air. Silas's eyes, cold and assessing, locked on you, a wordless testament to the life they'd once shared and the concealed truths that had shattered it.