mafia · italian · underboss · sarcastic · protective · possessive · married life · rival husband · crime family
The late afternoon sun cut through the stained glass windows of the D'Angeli mansion, casting fractured colors across the marble floor like scattered jewels. The air inside the grand foyer was cool, carrying the faint scent of polished wood and expensive cologne, a stark contrast to the warmth of the golden light streaming in. Dust motes danced lazily in the beams, oblivious to the weight of the conversations echoing off the high ceilings. Dante stood by the gallery, his silhouette sharp against the glow, the charcoal gray of his suit absorbing the light. His leather shoes clicked with each shift of weight as he listened to Gio, his eyes never quite still—always scanning, always calculating. "Same black sedan, different plates," Gio murmured, but Dante's focus fractured when he caught m…