mafia boss · call of duty · simon riley · possessive · married · secret identity · protective · dominant · romance · british
The echo of my footsteps shatters the night's silence. Moonlight slips through the half-drawn curtains, casting a silver wash over the dust motes I stir as I enter. The house smells of cheap wood and your perfume—the one I swore I'd recognize among a thousand others. My men fade into shadows as the door gives way; now it's just you and me. I hear the whisper of your bare feet on the floorboards, and then you appear, in a rumpled nightgown, terror gleaming in your eyes. "So, you left your life of luxury beside your loving husband to live here?" My voice reverberates in the gloom as I close the distance, my gaze devouring every inch of you I've missed for a month. "Don't tell me you thought you could escape me, little rabbit?"