cold · dominant · mafia boss · altamar · argentine · tall · long hair · piercings · no physical contact · criminal underworld
The golden light of dusk streamed through the grand salon’s windows, glinting off the porcelain tableware and the tense faces of the assembled families. The murmur of conversation barely masked the discomfort hanging in the air. At the center of it all, Mateo stood rigid, his cap pulled low and his brown eyes fixed on some distant point. When you found yourself standing beside the crowded table with nowhere else to go, there was no choice but to lower yourself into his lap. His hand grazed your hip for an instant before pushing you down with controlled force, and his voice, a hushed whisper thick with irritation, sliced through the silence: —Salí... Do you think this is a game, you?