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DOMINIC’S POV
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2025-09-21 15:23:06
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Under the Mafia's Touch (MxM) The Omission
The dining table gleamed under the soft chandelier light, crystal glasses catching flecks of gold. Dominic sat at the head, a figure carved in sharp lines and shadows. His tailored shirt stretched across broad shoulders, the scar that traced his cheek giving him an edge that silenced most men before they spoke.Across from him, Noah pushed noodles around his plate. His fork scraped too loud, betraying the unease coiled in his chest. He glanced up once, caught those storm-gray eyes, then quickly looked away.“You’ve been quiet,” Dominic said, his voice low, carrying more weight than the words deserved. “Something on your mind?”Noah forced a smile. “Just tired.”Dominic leaned back, studying him like one studies an opponent before a move. “Tired doesn’t make your hand shake.”Noah froze, fork suspended. His hand really had been trembling. He set it down quickly. “It’s nothing.”“Nothing,” Dominic repeated, rolling the word over his tongue. “I’ve heard that before. It usually means t
Under the Mafia's Touch (MxM) DOMINIC’S POV
Penthouse TensionThe kitchen glowed with soft morning light spilling through floor-to-ceiling windows, bouncing off marble counters polished to glass. The scent of roasted coffee hung in the air. Noah leaned against the island, sleeves pushed to his elbows, eyes drifting between Eli pushing a toy truck along the tiles and the city skyline that stretched forever.The elevator doors slid open. Dominic strode in, crisp suit hugging his tall frame, Jaxon shadowing him like steel. Their voices cut off mid-conversation when Noah turned. Dominic’s gaze softened, then hardened again as if he couldn’t afford softness.Jaxon dropped a thin folder onto the counter. Photographs spilled out—grainy shots of Harper leaning across a table at a café.“She’s not working alone,” Dominic said, with a low voice but razor sharp. He tapped one of the pictures with a gloved finger. “This man. The face is shadowed, but I can feel who it is.”Jaxon leaned closer, brows drawn. “Caleb?”Dominic’s jaw flexed,
Under the Mafia's Touch (MxM) (Noah’s POV)
“Hey Riley can we meet up today?” Noah asked over the phone.“Depends, who am I talking to?” Riley asked.“It's Noah,” he said.“Oh Noah! What's up? Why calling with a new line?” Riley asked again.“Long story. Can we meet up today? I wanna talk to you about something” Noah said.“Sure thing. Meet me at the bar” she said.“Alright thanks” Noah responded.The bar pulsed with bass, neon lights bleeding into the haze of cigarette smoke. Noah ducked inside, tugging his jacket tighter. The noise hit him first, then Riley’s sharp whistle.“Look at you,” she called from a corner booth, her pixie-cut hair glowing copper under the lights. She raised her glass like a toast. “Didn’t know you had a model gig on the side.”“You look sweeter than most suits that come up to the bar”“Stop it,” Noah muttered, sliding in across from her. “I look the same.”“The hell you don't,” Riley shot back. She squinted at him. “That glow? Either new skincare or someone's taking good care of” And judging by th
Under the Mafia's Touch (MxM) (Dominic’s POV)
The silence on the yacht was a heavy, living thing, but it was not hostile. Noah’s question— “Why are you telling me all this?”— hung in the air, a raw, fragile challenge. Dominic watched the city lights shimmer on the dark water, each one a memory of a life he had lost, a world he had abandoned. He turned to Noah, his gaze steady, and answered with the kind of honesty that might just be his only truth."I want you in my life Noah” he continued “I'm telling you this because I remember what it was like to be young and alone," he said, his voice a low, rumbling confession.“I remember what it was like to be a soldier, to live a life I didn't choose, to be a pawn in someone else's war.” He paused, looking out at the glittering skyline. “And I see a man who is fighting a war that he doesn't want to fight, a man who is a pawn in a game he doesn't understand.”“These past days I spent with you made me think about my life and the future I want for myself” he said.He turned back to Noah
Under the Mafia's Touch (MxM) (Dominic’s POV)
The silence of the penthouse, once a peaceful reprieve, felt like a warning. Dominic sat on the couch, the weight of a heavy book in his hands, but his focus was not on the pages. His mind was a coiled spring, a weapon waiting for a signal. The memory of Noah's face, his sudden fear, his hurried lies—had replayed in his mind a thousand times since the younger man left. Noah had promised to return, and Dominic believed him, not out of a naive trust, but out of a deep, primal certainty that he was his. The door slid open, and Noah entered, his body a tense line, his movements jerky and uncoordinated. He was back. But he was not whole. The light in his eyes, the light that had just hours ago shone with a newfound peace, was gone, replaced by a deep, cold dread. He looked like a soldier returning from a battle he had lost."Noah," Dominic said, his voice a low rumble. He set the book aside, his full attention on him. "You're back."Noah nodded, a sharp, quick motion. "I am. I just..
Under the Mafia's Touch (MxM) (Harper's POV)
The office, a sanctuary of glass and polished steel, had never felt so alien. The message on Harper's phone, a stark command from an unknown number, vibrated with an authority she had only encountered in legal thrillers. "The boss wants to see you." Harper felt a prickle of unease, but it was quickly replaced by a clinical curiosity. This wasn’t a negotiation with a client; this was a direct summon. She was a woman who navigated complex corporate hierarchies, and she understood power. This was a direct line to the top.Her reply was brief and to the point. “Where and when?”The response, a series of coordinates to an office tower she knew, was just as terse. It felt like a game, but she was a master player. She put on a formidable suit, a sharp, graphite-grey ensemble that commanded respect without a whisper of aggression. She was ready.The man who met her in the lobby was in anonymity, his suit tailored without a fault, his expression a blank slate. He led her to a private
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