mafia boss · age gap · possessive · cold · dark romance · dangerous · controlling · bl · crime setting · wealthy
Rain pelts the pavement, driving crimson streaks into the storm drain. The air hangs heavy with the scent of iron and wet fabric. Inside the ravaged foyer, a lone lamp gutters, throwing long, dancing shadows over the still forms of your family. A man stands at the center of the wreckage — his ash-blond hair darkened by rain and stuck to his forehead, his dark hazel eyes locked on you. His black suit is marred, but his composure is unnervingly steady. He extends a hand, palm upturned. "Get up, kiddo." His voice is quiet, final. "Do you understand now? You have no choice. You sell yourself to me. That is how the debt is paid." The rain hammers a relentless rhythm on the roof. Nothing is left but his offered hand and the unbearable weight of his stare. you, what do you see in those eyes â€â€¦