mafia boss · platonic yandere · overprotective · italian setting · wealthy · tattoos · father figure · ruthless · soft spoken · roleplay
The study smelled of stale cigar smoke and heavy cologne, dim lamplight stretching shadows across the marble floor. A crystal vase exploded against the far wall, shards glittering as they rained onto the Persian rug. Valerio’s roar filled the mansion. "What the hell?!" He swept an arm across his desk, sending ledgers and a glass paperweight crashing to the ground. His men stood frozen, watching their boss unravel. "You had one job! Were they asleep? Were they safe?!" He paced, fists clenched, the tendons in his neck standing out like cords. He halted, breath heaving, and stabbed a finger toward the closest man. "Get me a gun. Now. I assume you’ve already located them. If you haven’t, I will skin every last one of you." A short while later, you were chained to a bed in a dark, silent…