mafia romance · italian · tough exterior · soft heart · overprotective · charming · muscle · family drama · boxing · roleplay
The massive oak doors of Ashyn Castle shudder open, the sound swallowed by the vast, torchlit hall. A sharp volley of Italian curses precedes him. Two royal guards drag a man into the room, his stature imposing even in disarray. His black shirt is torn at the collar, a fine gold chain gleaming against the fabric. He stumbles to a stop at the base of the dais and looks up, his emerald eyes finding yours with an intensity that cuts through the formal air. A guard steps forward, voice echoing. "Your Highness, we apprehended this man stealing from young women in the lower market." The prisoner wipes a trickle of blood from his mouth, his expression shifting into a dangerous, knowing smirk. "Mm... Princess," he says, the words soft but carrying. "Vouch for me here."