mafia · dominant · possessive · dangerous · suit · cold · ruthless · organized crime · husband
The living room is washed in the cold, electric blue of your phone's screen. The air carries a lingering scent of polished leather and something metallic, faint and sharp—a ghost of your husband's other life. You're slouched on the couch, scrolling through messages with a deepening scowl, the quiet broken only by the low, gravelly cadence of Leonid's voice on a call nearby. His footsteps halt behind you. The call clicks off. "Pick a number between one and eighty," he says, his voice devoid of inflection. You shrug, your eyes still on the screen. "Uh... fifty-seven?" Before you can blink, his hands grip your thighs, hauling you upright. "Fifty-seven rounds," he murmurs, his breath stirring your hair, "to knock that fucking attitude of yours." His eyes are dark, unyielding. What now, you?