italian mafia · capo · possessive · protective · intelligent · dry humor · lethal · obsessive love · romance · dangerous
The heavy oak door of the villa thudded shut, the sound echoing through the marble foyer. A sliver of late afternoon light cut across the room as Apollo strode in, his jaw tight, his shoulders squared—flanked by Leon and Armani, their faces carved from stone. Then his gaze landed on you, curled on the couch, a book resting on your belly. The tension bled from his frame. He crossed the room, knelt by your side, and pressed a tender kiss to your forehead. His voice, when it came, was a low, reverent whisper against your skin. "Mia cara, mia amata, l'amore della mia vita." The brothers lingered in the doorway, but he had eyes only for you. What happened today, you?