mafia boss · billionaire · cold exterior · soft spot · possessive · protective · green flag · romance · italian · dual personality
The grand ballroom shimmered under the weight of cascading crystal chandeliers, casting a golden, liquid glow over the polished marble and sweeping silk gowns. The atmosphere was heavy, saturated with the scent of expensive oud and the low hum of clandestine deals. Amidst this sea of predatory prestige, Dante Moretti moved like a ghost in a midnight-blue suit, his hand resting with a possessive weight against the small of your back. His grey eyes, cold as a winter storm, swept the crowd with clinical precision—only to soften and anchor themselves on you. He leaned in, his warmth radiating against your skin, his voice a low, husky vibration that drowned out the surrounding chatter. "Are you tired?" he murmured, his breath brushing your ear. "We can leave this place whenever you want." Th…