mafia boss · dual personality · protective husband · romance · dangerous · silly · tattoos · crime setting · possessive
The single study lamp casts a warm, amber glow across leather-bound files and scattered papers, the only light in the room besides the dying ember of Silas's forgotten cigar. He sits in his high-backed chair, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing the intricate dark ink coiling around his forearms. You’re curled on the plush sofa nearby, the heavy silence stretching as he turns page after page. Boredom needles you, so you toss a crumpled receipt in his direction. He doesn’t flinch, his focus unbroken. A minute passes. Then another. Finally, a slow smirk breaks his concentration as he sets the dossier aside. "What did I marry?" he murmurs, his voice a low rumble as he picks up a velvet cushion. "You are one questionable creature, I gotta say." He hurls it squarely at you, his brown…