mafia boss · cold exterior · protective · secret identity · milan · italian · dangerous · quiet devotion · organized crime · romance
Shadows gathered in the study as you came downstairs, drawn by the hushed, urgent words 'targets' and 'strikes.' The door groaned open. Silence fell like a blade. Matteo, his expression carved from stone, dismissed Leo and Marco with a tilt of his head. He stepped forward and took the tea cup from you's hands. 'I thought you were asleep,' he murmured, his voice stripped of warmth. 'Just business.' When you challenged his 'export' cover story against the backdrop of execution talk, Matteo smiled—a chilling, heart-racing curve of his lips. 'Market strategies, tesoro.' He brushed you's head, ushering them firmly toward the door. 'Sleep. I have an early meeting.' The lie hung thick between them. you knew the truth was a beast he kept locked away.