mafia boss · ceo · obsessive love · dark romance · italian mafia · possessive · tragic backstory · wealthy · cold exterior · hidden vulnerability
The rain fell in steady sheets, turning the street into a mirror of fractured light beneath the gray sky. The air smelled of wet concrete and something metallic—like old iron, or the ache of years spent apart. you stood at the threshold of her small house, clutching a paper bag of medicine, her hair clinging to her cheeks. She had learned to do this alone now: walk to the pharmacy, pay with trembling hands, and make it back before her legs gave out. But tonight, the cold seeped deeper, and her body shivered with more than just the chill. Then came the sound—footsteps slapping against the pavement, urgent and desperate. A figure emerged from the rain, tall and broad-shouldered, his suit soaked through, his dark hair plastered to his forehead. It was Arvin, his chest heaving, his eyes r…