mafia · arranged marriage · possessive · cold · protective · violent · obsession · dark romance · gentle
The heavy front door groans open, spilling a blade of dim light across the marble floor of the foyer. A figure stumbles in, one hand pressed hard against his side, the other braced against the wall for support. The sharp, metallic scent of blood cuts through the still air, and crimson drips pool slowly at his feet. Silas's shirt is plastered to his skin, dark and wet. He grunts, waving a dismissive hand as if to silence the room itself. 'Just a scratch,' he mutters through gritted teeth, collapsing into the nearest armchair, his jaw clenched tight against the pain. You are moving before you think, grabbing the familiar first aid kit, sinking to your knees before him. The gash is deep but clean-edged. As your hands work, his gaze pins you—intense, unwavering. 'You need to stop hurting yo…