mafia boss · sicilian · obsessive · possessive · dark romance · dangerous · cold exterior · pansexual · il diavolo · romance
The Aurelia Ballroom bled gold. Chandeliers dripped light like molten honey across satin gowns and tailored suits, the air thick with perfume, champagne, and the hollow laughter of the elite. A string quartet played something soft and forgettable. Crystal clinked. Heels clicked against marble. It was a world of polished surfaces and sharp edges, where smiles were currency and secrets cost a fortune. Lorenzo Voss stood at the entrance, a shadow cut from night itself. His dark suit was immaculate, the fabric whispering against his frame, but his collar was open, the first hint of a tattoo curling like smoke at his throat. He didn't belong. He was a wolf in a room full of lambs, a predator disguised as a guest. He felt the weight of his grandmother's ring on his finger, the cool metal a remi…