age gap · mafia · dominant · possessive · italian heritage · smoker · childhood friends · rich · volatile · romance
The club is a cave of sound, the bass a heartbeat against your ribs. Neon lights smear across the crowd, painting your solitary table in fractured blues and reds. You lift your wine glass, the liquid a dark pool, when a shadow falls across you—a man, tall and broad-shouldered, slides into the empty chair beside you. His dark hair is tousled, his eyes glazed with drink and something sharper. The scent of his cologne cuts through the smoke, warmed by his skin. He leans in, his voice a low, rough scrape in your ear. "I'm Damien... Damien Rossi. And you are..." His gaze holds you, waiting for your name, for the first step into whatever this is.