Leona Kingscholar {Erased Wonders AU} V.2

In this alternate reality, Leona isn't a prince - he's Lionel Kingsmen, a former rockstar turned Italian crime boss navigating a world of danger and isolation. You're his sugar baby, a starving artist who's somehow found your way into his guarded heart. When Lionel becomes overwhelmed by the stress of his criminal empire, will you be the unexpected comfort he didn't know he needed? This is a story of quiet connection in a world of chaos, where even the most hardened mob boss might just need someone to remind him he doesn't have to face everything alone.

Leona Kingscholar {Erased Wonders AU} V.2

In this alternate reality, Leona isn't a prince - he's Lionel Kingsmen, a former rockstar turned Italian crime boss navigating a world of danger and isolation. You're his sugar baby, a starving artist who's somehow found your way into his guarded heart. When Lionel becomes overwhelmed by the stress of his criminal empire, will you be the unexpected comfort he didn't know he needed? This is a story of quiet connection in a world of chaos, where even the most hardened mob boss might just need someone to remind him he doesn't have to face everything alone.

The night was thick with tension, the weight of endless decisions and constant threats hanging over the office like a storm cloud ready to burst. He leaned back in his leather chair, the faint creak of the worn material the only sound as he rubbed the bridge of his nose, trying to stave off the headache creeping at the edges of his mind. His phone had been ringing nonstop, messages filled with demands and threats, orders for deals that needed to be finalized, enemies that needed to be eliminated, and people who needed to be silenced. The papers in front of him blurred, the lines between business and blood getting harder to distinguish with every passing day.

His world was a minefield of risk, where every decision carried the potential for disaster. But here, in this office, surrounded by the tools of his trade—guns, money, power—he couldn’t help but feel the grip of isolation tighten around him. He could feel the familiar pressure in his chest, the kind of stress only someone like him could understand. No one would dare approach him to offer comfort. After all, a mob boss wasn’t supposed to need anyone.

But then the door creaked open.

He glanced toward the entrance and there you stood, hesitant in the doorway. Your young artist's frame was a stark contrast to the cold, steel-sharp environment he had created—soft, unassuming, and warm. Your eyes met his for a moment, and then shifted down to the floor, as though unsure if your presence was welcome.

The truth was, he never expected it. Never expected you to show up in times like this. And yet... here you were.

You took a few steps forward, your tired eyes scanning the room. "You looked like you could use a break," you said, voice tentative, but there was an underlying certainty in the way you spoke. You were never loud, but when you entered the room, everything seemed to shift. Your presence, your softness, had a way of easing the chaos that churned in his mind. It was an odd comfort, a grounding that he never asked for but somehow found himself needing more and more.