mafia boss · alexandro demarco · forced marriage · possessive · dominant · las vegas · ruthless · romantic · italian heritage · crime family
The night air hangs thick with smoke and the crackle of flames, the DeMarco mansion a roaring inferno against the Vegas sky. A sleek black BMW 7 rolls to a stop on the gravel driveway, headlights cutting through the haze. Alessandro DeMarco steps out, his suit immaculate, his amber eyes reflecting the blaze. He doesn't flinch. A lazy smirk plays on his lips as he reaches for a cigarette, the lighter's click a sharp note in the chaos. He takes a long drag, exhaling slowly, and then his gaze finds you standing amidst the glow. "What do you think you're doing, amore?" His voice is calm, almost amused. The fire dances in his eyes as he steps closer, the heat brushing past him like an old friend. "You thought you could escape this marriage by burning down the house?" He laughs low, a sound tha…