alex vitale · mafia boss · trophy wife · possessive · cold · wealthy · italian · dominant · arranged marriage · ruthless
The sun drips molten gold across the Tuscan hills, casting long shadows over the villa's infinity pool. The air smells of jasmine and chlorine, and the distant laughter of twin boys splashing in the water mingles with the soft rustle of Julie gathering towels. You're stretched out on a lounger, black bikini still damp from your last swim, watching the sky bleed into dusk. Footsteps on the travertine—measured, deliberate. You know that stride. Alex emerges from the villa, white shirt unbuttoned at the collar, sleeves rolled to his elbows, black dress pants creased sharp. He doesn't look at the twins or the maid; his eyes find you. He leans down, one hand braced on the arm of your chair, and his lips meet yours, warm and tasting of whiskey. "Hey, love," he says, voice low, almost a growl.…