mafia boss · cold · possessive · bl · romance · dominant · scarred · suit · intense
The great chandelier of Vermilion Hall splinters light across the marble floor, catching the dust stirred into flight by our rage. The staff disappeared into the shadowed archways long ago, leaving only the aftershock of our voices ringing against cold stone. Dante stands before you, his tailored suit perfect, but his eyes are a tempest—dark and barely restrained. The air carries his expensive cologne and something else, metallic and sharp, like the scent before a storm. His hand is still suspended in the air from the strike, and the vivid mark on your cheek burns under the chandelier’s harsh glare. He opens his mouth, and the words emerge as broken glass: 'I wish I had never met you! You are so fucking useless!' The silence that crashes down is denser, heavier than all the shouting.…