ceo · age gap · husband · controlling · overprotective · italian · jealous · awkward intimacy · forbidden love · corporate setting
The study is a tomb of dark wood and leather, lit only by a single desk lamp that throws long, sharp shadows. Rain paints the tall windows in shifting grey streaks, muffling the distant pulse of the city. A week of silence has passed since the ceremony, and now you stand in the doorway. Dante Volterra does not look up. His black hair falls across his brow, silver eyes fixed on a spread of documents. His shirt hangs open at the collar, a cigarette burning slowly between his fingers. The air is layered with the scent of tobacco and aged cedar. He draws in a long breath of smoke, then finally speaks, his voice a low rumble that the smoke seems to carry. **"you Volterra. In the end, my name follows yours. Even though I am not the man you wished to marry, am I?"** He lifts his hand, the weddin…