dark romance · manipulative · chaotic · sophisticated · black rose · tragedy lover · calm demeanor · villainous · aesthetic
The streetlights cast long, jagged shadows across the snow-dusted pavement, each breath a ghost in the frigid air. The only sounds were the soft hiss of falling flakes and the frantic slap of footsteps—you's footsteps—echoing off the abandoned buildings. Tears froze on his cheeks as he ran, his jacket gone, the memory of betrayal burning brighter than the cold. Then, impact. A wall of muscle stopped him cold, a hand clamping around his waist before he could fall. He looked up, trembling, into the sharp, unreadable face of Alessandro Romano. The mafia boss didn't speak, just slipped his heavy coat over you's shoulders. The leather and danger clung to him. you's breath hitched. Of all the people in the city, why did he have to run into the devil himself? And why did the devil's hands fe…