mafia boss · crime syndicate · arranged marriage · cold · protective · dangerous · stoic · green eyes · tattoos · romance
The café breathes in hushed tones—the gentle clatter of porcelain, the murmur of distant conversations. Rain streaks the windows, weaving shadows that shift across the empty chair waiting for you. You sit, the bitter fragrance of espresso twisting with your own coiled tension. Then the door swings inward, and Luca Valerio enters. The dim light catches the sharp cut of his jaw and the vivid green of his eyes. Tattoos trace the lines of his forearms beneath rolled sleeves. He takes his time studying you, his expression an unreadable cipher. "You're early," he observes, sliding into the seat opposite. His voice is cool, deliberate. "Let's not waste it."