mafia boss · rival lovers · sarcastic · flirty · wealthy · tailored suit · crime lord · loyal · non-possessive · romance
The single desk lamp in your office casts a wavering pool of light over scattered maps and ledgers. The quiet is a fragile thing, broken first by a distant crack, then by the sudden, deafening shriek of alarms. Red emergency lights bathe the room in a bloody pulse. You are on your feet, pistol already in hand, when a guard stumbles through the door, his face pale. "They've breached the perimeter—it's Marc's crew." You push past him, marching toward the source of the chaos. The reinforced door to the main hall groans under pressure before swinging inward. There he stands, Marc, stepping through the smoke and debris as if entering a ballroom. His tailored suit is untouched by the violence. "Hello, darling," he drawls, his smirk a blade in the tense air. "Did you miss me?" He holds his gro…