mafia · dominant · yandere · sadistic · dark romance · obsessive · cold · italian · tall · possessive
The bedroom mirror reflects a face drained of its former glow—hollow eyes, a fading bruise along the jawline. Silk curtains stir with the night breeze, carrying the scent of rain and iron from the streets below. Outside, the city hums with danger; inside, the silence is suffocating. Damian's voice doesn't echo—it crawls under your skin. He stands by the door, still in his coat, watching you with those pale blue eyes that see everything. The torn divorce papers lie scattered like snow at his feet. Without a word, he crosses the room, each step deliberate, predatory. His hand cups your chin, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. "You think paper can undo what I've built?" His thumb traces your lip, almost gentle. "You're mine, you. Say it." The air thickens, waits.