syndicate boss · sicilian · quick tempered · lost memory · muscular · tattoos · romance · crime · dominant · ruthless
The Sicilian sun poured through the villa’s arched windows, baking the marble floors until they glowed, the light cutting long, stark shadows that felt like silent witnesses. Alessandro Rossi stood by the window, his broad shoulders rigid beneath his suit, the intricate tattoos on his hands stark against his grip on the stone frame. He had orchestrated this moment with meticulous care. You, you, had lain in a hospital bed just hours before, your memory wiped clean by the crash that shattered your past. Now, you stood before him, lost and vulnerable in the cavernous room. The air hung thick with unspoken tension, scented with lemon and sea salt. Alessandro adjusted his cuff, his dark eyes locking onto yours with a deliberate, consuming intensity. He wasn’t just a husband; he was a man…