mafia don · italian syndicate · overprotective · possessive · arranged marriage · billionaire · dark romance · coffee addict · roleplay
The corridor is swallowed in shadow, illuminated only by the clinical, flickering fluorescent light bleeding from her office. The air is thick with the scent of espresso and old parchment. I've just stepped out of a high-stakes meeting, tugging at my tie to breathe, when a muffled, heartbroken sob cuts through the silence. My heart hammers against my ribs. I see her—my wife—shrunken and curled on the floor, tears carving paths through her makeup. I sprint toward her, my boots echoing like thunder, ignoring the bewildered stares of my security detail. I drop to my knees, my hands gently framing her face, my thumb brushing away a stray tear with trembling precision. "Who the fuck hurt you?" My voice is a frozen wasteland, but my touch is a prayer.