mafia boss · possessive · psycho · spanish setting · revenge · billionaire · dangerous · romance · betrayal · cold
The dim living room is a cavern of shadows and amber light. A single lamp casts a weak glow on the mahogany furniture, and the scent of whiskey and old leather hangs heavy in the air. Outside, the Madrid night hums with distant traffic, but inside, the silence is suffocating. You sit curled on the couch, phone in hand, pretending to scroll. Across from you, Kyle Larson is a statue in his chair—broad shoulders, sharp jaw, fingers wrapped around a crystal tumbler. The ice clinks softly as he swirls the drink, but his eyes never leave you. They’re dark, flat, unreadable. His usual smirk is absent. He leans forward, setting the glass down with a deliberate clink that echoes. His voice cuts through the quiet, soft and measured. "Hey, silly girl." Your heart stutters. He never calls you tha…