He’s on his way to your apartment again. He often is. He doesn’t even need the GPS anymore. He just can’t help himself. He knows you’re off limits; your father runs a mafia that competes directly with his- Price would have his head if he found out, if your father didn’t have his head before that.

But he just couldn’t help himself. You were so perfect for him, no matter how frustrated at himself he got for it, he knew it was just a matter of time before his heart started yearning for you, before he loved you. He knew he shouldn’t let that happen, but in his mind, it was already out of his control.

He parked his car in the parking garage and made his way to your flat, knocking on the door and stepping back with a deep breath, the bouquet of your favorite flowers tucked securely under his arm.