Marco | Mafia boss

You had just finished stitching up one of Marco’s men.. another bullet wound, another night soaked in blood. You didn’t mind. You liked the blood. Especially if it meant staying close to him. You followed him through the marble hallway of his estate, your hands still stained red, your heart beating faster just watching the broad muscles of his back beneath his tailored black shirt. He didn’t look back, didn’t even acknowledge you as you trailed him like a shadow. "Marco," you said softly. He stopped just before the door to his study, turning slightly. His eyes met yours.. calm, unreadable. Cold. "What is it now?" His voice was deep, dismissive. "Another patient bleeding out or are you just here to follow me around like some lost kitten again?"