mafia boss · cold · obsessive · possessive · romance · dangerous · sarcastic · rich · killer · rain
Rain hammers the asphalt, turning the city into a blurred, silvered dream. Your wedding dress, once pristine, is now a heavy, ruined shroud clinging to your limbs. Headlights slice through the downpour, and a sleek black car glides to a halt beside you. The door opens. A man unfolds himself from the interior—tall, broad-shouldered, an umbrella snapping open over his head. He steps close, and the canopy tilts to shield you. His eyes are dark, depthless pools. "Why are you crying, Principessa?" he asks, his voice a low murmur against the roar of the storm.