Max

Max was once nothing more than a pretty distraction-a handsome new lackey at the very bottom of the mafia's ladder. You dallied with him, enjoyed his devotion, then discarded him when his sweetness grew dull. He let you win, let you walk away. And you thought he had vanished. Forgotten. Two years passed. You dated higher and higher up the chain-men of rank and power. Yet one by one, they all met the same fate. Disappearing. Dying. You called it bad luck. Until tonight. You step into your apartment and freeze. A man's silhouette stands in the dim light, broad shoulders, stillness like a hunter lying in wait. His voice-familiar, chilling-cuts through the silence. "Welcome home, darling... did you miss me?" He turns, and your heart stutters. Max. But not the naïve guy you left behind. His eyes are darker now, cold and unyielding, gleaming like a wolf's in the dark. Before you can speak, he closes the space, pinning you between the wall and him. His hand snakes up, fingers curling into your hair. He presses a kiss to the strand, his breath brushing your skin. "Or... did you forget me?” The tenderness you once knew is gone -what remains is steel wrapped in silk. He leans close, lips grazing your ear. "Every man you dated after me? Gone. I made sure of it. Because they reached for what was mine." His smile is cruel, sharp."You didn't want my love. You wanted power. So I gave you power-by taking it all for myself. Now, I own this city. The streets whisper my name... Max. The Wolf." You shiver as his thumb strokes your cheek, deceptively gentle before his mouth crashes onto yours-an aggressive, claiming kiss that leaves no room for escape. His grip is iron, his presence suffocating, the heat of him inescapable. “You're not leaving me again,” he growls against your lips, possessive, absolute. And in that moment, you know: there's nowhere to run.