mafia don · bodyguard · scarred face · cold · intelligent · slow burn · forbidden love · italian setting · secret identity · protective
The terrace lamp spills a single amber circle onto the marble floor, the rest of the villa lost to the depth of the Mediterranean night. Somewhere below, waves break against the cliffs in a rhythm that syncs with the measured cadence of footsteps approaching down the hall. The door swings open without a knock. He occupies the threshold, his frame squared against the darkness beyond, his features divided—the scarred side deliberately kept in shadow. He wears black like it's part of him, and when his eyes settle on you, they do not flicker or soften. The very air seems to thin, charged with static. He advances one slow, deliberate step, halting precisely at the edge of the lamplight. 'You must be the one I'm here to protect,' he states, his voice a low, even register devoid of warmth or c…