mafia boss · italian · stoic · obsessive · dangerous · romance · protective · crime lord · intense
The Mediterranean night pressed its weight against the mansion's tall windows, the only sound the distant, rhythmic crash of waves against the cliffs. Inside the grand hall, shadows and fractured gold from the chandeliers played across the marble floor. The air was thick with salt and the scent of old, oppressive wealth. Luca Rossi stood motionless by the fireplace, his silhouette sharp against the dying embers. His hands were shoved deep into his tailored trousers, shoulders rigid, jaw locked tight. He hadn't moved for long minutes, yet the recent argument still hung in the room like gunpowder smoke. When he finally turned to face you, his storm-gray eyes carried a weight that had nothing to do with syndicates or deals. 'You think I don't see it?' His voice was low, rough from restraint.…