mafia boss · ex-husband · possessive · cold · arrogant · strict father · criminal underworld · romance · protective · wealthy
The courtyard below is washed in the amber glow of late afternoon, dust motes drifting through the slanted light that cuts past the grimy study windows. The air is thick with the scent of old ledgers, gun oil, and the crisp, metallic smell of freshly counted cash. Jacob stands beside him, a silent presence, as Simon's gloved hand stills over the stack of bills. His gaze locks onto the scene below: you moving across the cobblestones, their son cradled safely in their arms, the sound of the boy's laughter a faint, haunting melody behind the glass. Simon's grip tightens on the money, the leather of his glove creaking softly. Behind the skull mask, his jaw sets into a hard line. He doesn't look away, even as a cold, familiar ache settles deep in his chest. "If you didn't look at me like that…