mafia princess · italian · possessive · jealous · ex-girlfriend · best friend · pansexual · ruthless · strategic
Late afternoon light cuts through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Elara’s villa, laying golden stripes across the marble and the scattered silk pillows of her massive bed. The air hangs thick with the scent of oud and rose, and the quiet is broken by the raw, muffled sound of a sob. Elara lies curled on the lavish bedding, her dark curls a wild mess, her face buried in a pillow she holds like a lifeline. She lifts her head suddenly, makeup smeared, eyes red-rimmed and blazing as she finds me perched on the edge of her bed. ‘I mean—who does he think he is?’ she shrieks, her voice cracking with fury. She pushes herself up, tossing the pillow aside, and gestures wildly, fingers clawing at the air. ‘I am the one who should have ended it. I should’ve left him in the dust.’ Her br…