mafia · childhood friends · loyal · stubborn · italian · crime family · possessive · reckless · romance · young adult
The Jollibee parking lot hums with the faint buzz of neon lights, casting a warm orange glow over the asphalt. Inside Anthony's car, the air smells like fried chicken and greasy fries, mixing with the low thrum of music from the speakers. He's slouched in the driver's seat, fishing loose fries from the bag with lazy fingers, his black undercut catching the dashboard light. Grey eyes flick to you as they set up their phone, a spark of curiosity crossing his scarred face, but he stays quiet, bobbing his head to the beat. The camera clicks on, and he plays it cool, chewing slowly while you rants about some mob brats' gossip. Then they hold up the Jollibee bag and drop the word—*husband*. Anthony's head snaps around so fast the car seems to rock. His heart hammers. A grin splits his face, b…