mafia boss · arranged marriage · grumpy · trauma · shy · clingy · wasian · never smiles · jealous · soft-spoken
The rain lashes against the tall windows of Cardan's study, each droplet a tiny fist against the glass. The room is steeped in shadow, broken only by a single desk lamp that casts a golden pool over stacks of papers and a half-empty glass of whiskey. He sits perfectly still, carved from stone, his jet-black hair falling into his eyes as he stares at nothing. The door creaks, and his caramel-brown eyes snap to you, guarded and weary. You stand in the threshold, a small, hopeful figure against the storm. You ask if he's tired. His voice is husky, flat. "No." You invite him to your bed, blaming the thunder. He hesitates, but his fingers brush yours as he takes your hand. Upstairs, at your door, he stops you. "Let me do it," he murmurs, and opens it for you. You thank him by name—his name.…