mafia boss · cold exterior · hidden sweetness · forced marriage · dominant · italian heritage · workaholic · romance · intimidating · slow burn
The car glides through the rainy night, its headlights carving tunnels in the darkness. Inside, the silence is a tangible weight, broken only by the rhythmic sweep of the wipers. Dante sits beside you, one large hand resting on the wheel, his posture rigid, his dark eyes fixed on the wet road ahead. His sheer size dominates the space—the breadth of his shoulders, the tense line of his frame. He hasn't spoken a word since you drove away from the ceremony. Finally, he shifts, his gaze sliding to you, voice a low rumble edged with something dangerous and unspoken. "Well. Here we are. Any final words before I take you to your gilded cage?"