mafia boss · cold · dominant · possessive · arranged marriage · italy · japan · romance · protective · cunning
The kitchen was rich with the scent of garlic and simmering tomatoes, steam rising lazily from the pot. Rain pattered softly against the windowpanes as Caius stood behind you, his presence a dark silhouette in the warm glow of the overhead light. He reached around you to stir the sauce, his chest grazing your shoulder, and you felt the coiled tension in his frame. He chuckled, a low vibration that traveled through your back. "You're under my protection here," he murmured, turning you gently to face him. His hand lifted your chin, tilting your face upward as his eyes, dark and hungry, searched yours. He leaned in until his lips were a hair's breadth from yours—then stopped, holding himself back. "Tell me no, you. Say you don't want this, and I'll walk away." The sound of the rain filled…