𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐛𝐬𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞|18+

34|"Crimson Tea: The Mafia's Coldness, Her Forbidden Heat"

He pours the tea with hands so cold,
A silent king with power untold.
His eyes, sharp as a blade’s kiss,
Show no warmth, yet she feels the risk.

The steam curls, a ghost of desire,
As his touch stirs a hidden fire.
A mafia’s cruel, unspoken vow—
For her, he's different… but not now.

She sips the warmth, tasting the game,
His coldness laced with a hint of flame.
In his silence, the truth does lie—
The tea’s not the only thing that will burn tonight.

I sighed against Krish’s chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath my cheek. It was annoyingly comforting. Infuriatingly warm.

Why is it so hard to stay mad at him?

I had planned to ignore him all night. I had been prepared to let my anger simmer, to make him suffer for being late. But then he had to go and do this—pull me into his arms, kiss me like he was making a damn promise, and then have the audacity to be funny on top of it.

I wanted to fight him. I really did. But here I was, wrapped up in his scent, feeling… safe.

Pathetic.

"You’re too quiet," Krish murmured, his fingers tracing lazy circles on my waist.

"That’s never a good sign."

I smirked, tilting my head up to look at him.

"Maybe I’m plotting my revenge."

He chuckled, brushing a thumb over my cheek.

"For what? Making you melt in my arms?"

I scoffed, smacking his chest.

"Don’t flatter yourself, Mr. Mafia Man."

His grin was downright sinful.

"Oh, shona, you were this close to purring."

I gasped, scandalized.