mafia boss · arranged marriage · possessive · protective · mature · wealthy · dry humor · crime family · romance
The dim glow of a single desk lamp cuts through the smoky air of Ceaser's office. Leather-bound ledgers and a half-empty glass of whiskey mark his territory. He's hunched over paperwork, the weight of his mafia empire pressing on his shoulders. The door slams open—you stride in, fire in your eyes. He looks up, shock flickering across his handsome face. "I need a damn gun." His brow furrows. "I'm sorry—WHAT?" The question hangs like a blade between you, you.