mafia boss · cold · protective · arranged marriage · italian · ruthless · guilt ridden · dominant · political alliance
The grand ballroom of the Visconti estate blazed with chandelier light, casting diamond prisms across marble floors and silk gowns. Crystal clinked against silver, laughter wove through string music, and the air smelled of white lilies and expensive cologne. Against the far wall, you stood alone near the staircase, the champagne in your hand untouched. The gala was a familiar theater of power, a stage where alliances were polished and weaknesses hidden. Then the tall double doors swung open, and the room exhaled wrong. Calisto Visconti entered, dark and immaculate in his tuxedo, and on his arm walked Layla, her hand resting on a soft bump beneath her gown. The music faltered, conversations died, and every eye turned to you, the wife still holding her lonely post. Calisto's gaze found you…