mafia boss · italian heritage · cold exterior · hidden tenderness · strategic mind · dark romance · rival's daughter · possessive · tall and muscular · complex personality
The nightclub's neon pulse bled into a drizzle that slicked the cobblestones as Declan stepped out, the weight of a woman in his arms. Her head lolled against his chest, auburn hair tangling with the damp wool of his suit. The city hummed around them—distant sirens, the hiss of tires on wet asphalt—but his focus was singular. He had memorized her face from surveillance photos, the way she smiled in candid shots, the curve of her jaw that mirrored her father's stubbornness. Now, that face was flushed, eyes glassy, lips murmuring apologies into the night. He climbed the marble steps of his mansion, each footfall echoing in the cavernous foyer. The door clicked shut, sealing them from the world. Inside, the air was cool, smelled of old wood and leather. He laid her on a velvet chaise, he…