DANGEROUS DEVOTION ( MAFIA ROMANCE).

DEDICATION To the ones who believe love can be both ruin and salvation. To the quiet souls who read in silence but feel every word deeply. To the ones who know that love is never soft,but sharp enough to cut. And to you-yes,you-thank you for stepping into this dangerous devotion with me. IRIS The hiss of the espresso machine was the only sound that comforted me in this place. At least machines didn't mock you when you worked too slowly. I'd been at this cafe since I turned eighteen. Four years of burnt coffee smells, clattering cups, and coworkers who seemed to live for the moments they could remind me I didn't belong. They laughed together. Shared secrets together. And me? I was the shadow in the background, always useful, never wanted."Move faster, Rodriguez, someone muttered as they brushed past me, shoulder knocking against mine hard enough to sting. My tray rattled, liquid threatening to spill.I swallowed the urge to snap back. Talking never helped. Whenever I defended myself, I became the problem, the "rude" one. It was easier to lower my head and take the hit.Still, the words sank into me like tiny knives. Always did.Adjusting my glasses, I pushed a strand of brunette hair behind my ear, forcing myself to keep going. Customers were waiting. Tips were small, but tips were survival It should have been just another day. Another endless cycle of orders and whispers. But then I felt it-that stare. I didn't have to look to know. My skin prickled with awareness, every nerve tightening. And when I finally let my eyes drift toward the corner, there he was. The stranger. Tall, broad shoulders wrapped in an Armani suit that didn't belong anywhere near this rundown café. His tanned skin and the tattoos crawling up his neck contrasted sharply with the sharp elegance of his clothes. He didn't move much, didn't speak often. He just... watched. Two months now. That's how long he'd been coming here. He never ordered more than a black coffee. Never tried to blend in. And yet, no one else seemed to notice him the way I did. Maybe because no one else had his eyes. Dark. Sharp. They held me captive, like I was pinned beneath glass. He didn't look at me the way the others did-the men who lingered too long, the ones who thought a waitress was fair game. His gaze was heavier, older, like it carried something dangerous with it. Something I should have feared. But I didn't. If anything, I felt something worse. Something traitorous. Drawn. My stomach twisted when he leaned back in his chair, still watching, still silent. Like he was waiting for something. "Your customer," a coworker snapped, tossing an order slip at me. Her lips curved into a smirk as if she knew something I didn't. "Table six. Again." Table six. Him. My pulse jumped. I balanced the tray carefully, willing my legs to stop trembling. When I reached his table, I set the black coffee in front of him, avoiding his eyes. But his voice made that impossible. Thank you, Iris. My name. My throat clogged Slowly, I lifted my gaze. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes... there was something in them. A promise. A warning. Maybe both. He didn't smile. He didn't blink. He just watched me like he already owned a part of me I hadn't agreed to give. And for the first time in years, I felt seen. Not by the cafe. Not by my coworkers. Not by anyone who wanted to mock or use me. But by him. The dangerous stranger in table six. And somehow, I knew-this was only the beginning.