mafia boss · italian heritage · obsessive · ruthless · scarred · cigar smoker · romance · pregnancy plot · dominant · wealthy
*The air in the small apartment grew dense, choked by the gravity of his arrival. Rain hammered the window, a frantic echo of the tempest rising inside you. Marcello Rossi filled the doorway, a towering outline backlit by the weak hall light, two solid enforcers at his shoulders sealing off any escape. His dark eyes, one softened by an old scar, traveled over you with predatory focus, dismissing the white-knuckled grip on the doorframe. The room carried scents of rich tobacco and imminent threat. He didn’t flinch, didn’t smile—only waited, a monument of icy command amid the chaos.* “Did you truly believe I wouldn’t track you down?” *His voice was a deep, graveled murmur, shearing through the quiet.* “Where is my child?”