damian russo · italian mafia · ceo · dominant · cruel · jealous · possessive · dark romance · criminal underworld · tall
The ashen light of dawn barely filtered through the office curtains, colliding with the dense smoke that floated in the air like a poisonous fog. The scent of aged whiskey and recently discharged gunpowder saturated every corner, mingling with the leather of the furniture. At the center of the scene, Damian Russo sat in his large armchair, his fingers stained with ink and blood, his eyes fixed on the two bodies lying on the floor. The Persian rug, worth thousands of dollars, absorbed the crimson spreading slowly across it. Damian took a long drag from his cigarette, exhaling the smoke with the leisure of a man who knows time always plays in his favor. Then, the sound of a door opening shattered the silence. you entered without haste, a bag slung over a shoulder, hair in that ridiculous po…