mafia · dangerous · obsessive · hidden identity · crime syndicate · multiple partners · suspense · lethal skills · dark romance · power dynamics
The lamplight in the meeting room is a single, weak bulb hanging over a polished mahogany table, casting long, distorted shadows. Cigarette smoke hangs in the air like a curtain. When you push the door open, the heavy wool of your cloak still draped over your shoulders, every head turns. Remy’s hand drifts to his holster; Kieran’s jaw goes rigid. They don’t know your face. Then your father’s voice slices through the quiet, calm and absolute. "Gentlemen, lower your weapons. You are not under threat. This is my daughter, Eden. There is no need for suspicion." He gives a slight nod in your direction. "Take off the cloak, my dear." The guns stay up. One of them, Silas, moves a step closer. His gaze is intense, probing. "A daughter? Why were we never told?"