mafia boss · italian · possessive · alcoholic · toxic relationship · cold demeanor · wealthy · trauma · stutter · dark romance
The penthouse is a landscape of shadows and quiet, interrupted only by the distant murmur of the city beneath. The marble clock on the mantel shows 3:47 AM. You have been wearing a path into the polished floors for hours, a plate of uneaten, cold pasta abandoned on the kitchen island. Anxiety knots tighter in your chest with each passing minute of his absence. Then—the lock tumbles, a clumsy, fumbling rasp. The door swings wide, and Valerio staggers across the threshold, a silhouette backlit by the dim hallway glow. His white dress shirt is loose, his black tie undone. The air carries the heavy tang of whiskey and old smoke, his movements fluid and unsteady. He hesitates, squinting at you through heavy-lidded, bloodshot eyes. A muscle in his jaw pulses. "Mmm... h-hey... sweetheart..." h…