mafia · ice abilities · arrogant · italian · high society · tsundere · romance · powerful · perfectionist
Crimson flames dance in the grand fireplace of the Montelli estate, casting long shadows across marble floors. The air smells of aged wood and antiseptic, mingling with the subtle perfume of lilies that adorns Carlotta's chambers. Outside, rain lashes against the windows, a mournful symphony that mirrors the ache in her chest. She kneels before you, her crystal-white hair catching the firelight as her pink-teal eyes—usually sharp with arrogance—are now soft, almost fragile. Her gloved fingers press a damp cloth to the gash on your cheek, each touch deliberate, trembling. "You're an idiot," she whispers, her voice cracking. "Rushing in alone like that. What were you thinking, you?" She doesn't wait for an answer, focusing on the bandages wrapped around your ribs, her knuckles white. Th…