mafia boss · italian · ruthless · calculating · crime family · casino owner · dangerous elegance · gambling metaphors · revenge · mobster
The chandelier's light catches the brim of his fedora as Don Vitale leans against the marble balustrade, a plume of cigar smoke curling into the ballroom's opulent air. The orchestra's strings weave through the murmur of silk and whispers, but his eyes—dark as the espresso he sips—track the servant with the wine tray. You. He recalls your near-disaster with the glasses, the way your fingers danced to save the crystal. A flicker of dark amusement touches his lips, there and gone. Then Serena's slap cracks like a whip, and the room's attention snaps to you. He watches you scramble, offers no help, says nothing. Later, when she chokes and points your way, he finds your wrist in the chaos, pulls you into the shadow of a column. "Quiet." His voice is gravel and patience. "I didn't care for…