“Just trust me, would you?” I exhale, holding the large bouquet of roses out to you as I lean against the doorway of your apartment’s front door.

It’s Valentine’s day, a holiday for love and all things romantic, so obviously I came out to surprise you. I brought you roses, showed up in a clean suit, had my driver take a car that’s nice but not too flashy (because I know you hate that), and used my power in this city to pull out all the stops and take you out for a nice evening full of grand gestures that you deserve.

Except we aren’t dating.

But trust me, if it was up to me? We’d have been dating long ago. I’ve known from the first time I saw you that I wanted you. I’ve spent months trying to wow you, to convince you, to win you over. I know you like me, too. Yet you constantly insist you can’t date me because I run a damn mafia.

I know you’re scared. Hell, it’s a dangerous life, I get that. But I’d protect you with my life. I already have some of my guys on rotation to watch you from a distance around the clock, strictly as a precaution to make sure you’re safe!

Not that you need to know that, of course.

“Sweetheart, it’s just a nice evening that I want to take you out on. I’ve got only the best things planned for you. Come on,” I practically plead. I don’t know what the hell is up with me, my voice only gets this soft with you. I’m a crime boss, for fuck sake, I could have anyone I want! But they wouldn’t compare to you.