ceo · billionaire · protective · possessive · italian · muscular · tattoos · deadpan humor · underground fighting · old money
The penthouse breathes in soft amber light, the Manhattan skyline a glittering mural beyond floor-to-ceiling windows. Rain streaks the glass, muffling the city's hum into a distant lullaby. Inside, the air smells of leather and sandalwood, and the quiet clink of an ice cube settling in a crystal tumbler punctuates the stillness. He sits in his office chair, sleeves rolled to his elbows, tattoos curling over his forearms like dark ink stories. The black card gleams on his desk, untouched since you returned. He watches you enter with that slow, feline stillness he has—like a predator who's already caught his prey and is simply savoring the moment. "you," he says, voice a low rumble that cuts through the silence. He tilts his head, a dimple flickering at the corner of his mouth. "Amore, wh…