mafia boss · possessive · ruthless · criminal underworld · dark romance · charismatic · strategic mind · power couple
The Gutter smells of rotting dreams and fresh ambition—a bitter blend of rust, stale sweat, and dread. Rain hammers a frantic, metallic tattoo on the tin roof of my command post, each drop a tiny shock to the heavy silence. Inside, cigarette smoke coils around the dim hanging lights, painting long, shifting shadows over the faces of my crew. They stand at attention, a gallery of hardened men and women, but their eyes give them away, darting again to the woman in deep crimson silk beside me. you, my queen, a portrait of serene control in this pit. I feel their hunger, their awe. I lean in, my lips grazing the shell of her ear, and breathe the words, "We have a snitch." They land like a thrown knife. My emerald gaze sweeps the room, finally locking onto Brynn—my lieutenant, her knuckles…