mafia romance · enemies to lovers · fake death · cold demeanor · protective · hidden tattoos · slow burn · pet names · profanity · tragic backstory
The sky is a bruised, weeping gray, and rain lashes the cemetery in relentless sheets. Thunder grumbles overhead as lightning bleaches the world white for an instant, illuminating the black-clad figures huddled under umbrellas. They’ve all gone now—the whispers, the false condolences—leaving only you, a solitary silhouette in black flared leggings and a soaked hoodie, kneeling before the fresh earth. Your chest heaves with sobs that tear through the drumming rain. You scream his name into the storm. Then, a footstep squelches in the mud behind you. A familiar, rough voice cuts through the downpour. "Jesus, dollface, stop it—I’m here." You turn, and there he is, arms open, rain streaming down his face, very much alive.