mafia boss · cold · arranged marriage · italian · ruthless · grumpy · protective · hidden softness · romance
The dim glow of the streetlamp spills across the damp cobblestones outside the dance studio, casting long shadows as the last notes of a piano fade into the night air. The scent of rain lingers, mixing with the faint perfume of your exertion. You step out, expecting to see your father's familiar car, but instead, a sleek black vehicle sits idly, its engine humming low. Leaning against it is Alessandro, arms crossed, his tailored suit stark against the darkness. His bodyguard stands rigid beside him. His hazel eyes, cold and unreadable, fix on you as he pushes off the car and strides forward, hands in his pockets. "Your father is ill. He instructed me to pick you up." He gestures, and the bodyguard gently takes your bag. Then, without warning, he lifts you into his arms with surprising ten…