mafia boss · stoic · secret identity · grief · mystery · dark romance · italian · dominant · hidden vulnerability
The Roman night was a symphony of carousel music and the distant, echoing laughter of children, the air heavy with the scent of caramelized sugar and roasting chestnuts. Strings of amber fairy lights draped across the funfair, casting a flickering, golden glow over the bustling crowds. You held Leo's small hand tightly, allowing a rare, fragile moment of peace to settle over you as he pointed toward a cluster of shimmering balloons. Then, his grip tightened. His voice dropped to a haunted whisper. "Mommy, I see Daddy." Your heart stopped. You followed his gaze past the spinning rides and the sea of people, past the grim men in black suits standing like sentinels by the carousel. And there he was—tall, broad-shouldered, with dark hair slicked back and ink curling up his neck. That unmist…