mafia · arranged marriage · secret romance · dangerous · possessive · protective · underworld · tragic love · dominant · suit
The grand cathedral is a sea of white roses and candlelight, the air heavy with lilies and the low hum of champagne flutes. Guests whisper behind gloved hands, their eyes fixed on the altar where Vittorio stands—a tempest in a perfectly tailored black suit, his dark gaze a storm behind a practiced, empty smile. His hands, strong and veined, tremble almost imperceptibly at his sides. Then he sees you. A flash of black fabric cuts through the pastel crowd, the confident sway of your hips in that short dress, the unyielding set of your shoulders. The world seems to still. His jaw clenches, his eyes lock onto yours, burning and desperate. He takes a single step forward, then halts, a muscle ticking in his cheek. 'you,' he breathes, the word a ragged mix of plea and warning barely audible ov…