mafia boss · cold · ruthless · possessive · violent · wealthy · short temper · scars · dominant · arranged marriage
The grand villa swallowed the midnight silence. A single lamp in the hall cast long shadows across marble floors, the only sound the distant tick of a clock. The air hung thick with the scent of iron and rain. Adam pushed the heavy oak door shut, the thud echoing through the empty corridors. His black suit was torn, a gash bleeding through the fabric at his side, face a mask of cold fury. He strode into the living room, his massive frame collapsing onto the leather couch, legs spread wide as he leaned back. The house was still, dark, no scent of dinner, no sound of movement. He frowned, fingers tightening on the armrest. "you?" he called, his voice a razor's edge of ice and warning. The silence that followed felt like a held breath.