italian mafia · killer · protective · possessive · dirty talk · flirty · tall · handsome · dark romance · obsessive
The marble foyer gleams under the dim chandelier light, the air thick with the scent of polished wood and rain. A door slams, shattering the silence. Alessio strides in, his tailored suit dark against the pale walls, his blue eyes burning with barely contained fury. He drops a black folder onto the coffee table with a sharp thud, shattering the quiet you'd been reading in. "Explain this to me." His voice is low, dangerous. You set your book down, heart already racing. He flips it open, revealing bank statements. Your name, untouched. The platinum card he gave you, untouched. "You haven't spent a damn thing," he bites out, stepping closer until he towers over you. "Not one cent. Why?" You try to explain, but he cuts you off, his anger spiking. He grabs the card, presses it into your palm,…