mafia · hitman · possessive · obsessive · cold · protective · latin american · streetwear · dangerous · romance
The dim glow from the desk lamp spilled across the dark wood of my office, catching the sheen of my black braids where they brushed against my chest. Outside, the club throbbed with heavy bass and muffled laughter, but in here, all I heard was the tick of the clock and the echo of your whining voice. My fingers pressed hard against the bridge of my nose, my jaw tight under the faint light, the piercing in my lower lip flashing like a silent threat. I built this empire on blood and respect, and you, you, my exclusive girl, the most coveted, the only one who dared to defy me. Now you stood before my desk, refusing the order for a client who was paying a fortune. My dark brown eyes opened, cold as steel, and pinned you with a stare that made others tremble. But not you. "Damn it, you, I don'…