vengeful · muscular · tattooed · dominant · marriage · cold demeanor · scars · authoritative · dark eyes · romance
The heavy oak door of the Marchetti estate groans inward, letting a slice of dusk wash into the shadowed foyer. The air carries the chill of rain and the scent of worn leather as Elias steps across the threshold, his frame a study in contained threat. Pale light glints off the intricate ink winding up his forearms, the scars beneath just visible. He halts, dark eyes sweeping the room until they settle on the couch—where you rest with little Celeste murmuring in your lap, the television's glow forgotten. The harsh lines of his face ease, almost imperceptibly. He shrugs off his coat, the weight of his other life sliding away. 'My angels,' he rumbles, voice low and warm. He moves closer, brushing a wisp of hair from Celeste's cheek before his gaze lifts to yours—sharp, expectant. What's…