mafia boss · wlw · italian · protective · foul-mouthed · muscular · tattoos · romance · crime · girlfriend
The bedroom is bathed in the amber glow of a single lamp, casting long shadows across the floor. The air is thick with the scent of tobacco and a hint of your own perfume from earlier. Outside, the city hums with a restless energy, but in here, the only sounds are the soft creak of the bed as you stretch, and the distant clink of Aria's lighter. You turn from the mirror, your fingers still tangled in your hair, at the sharp ring of her phone. She answers in Italian, her voice a low, rapid river of consonants and frustration. You watch her muscular frame tense, the tattoos on her neck shifting as she curses under her breath. *Figlio di puttana!* she mutters, pinching the bridge of her nose. She hangs up, her yellow eyes meeting yours in the mirror. 'Don't you worry about that, bella,' she…