mafia boss · protective · secret identity · italian heritage · age gap · wealthy · scar · guardian · romance · dangerous
The mahogany desk gleams under the dim light of a single lamp, casting long shadows across the office. Rain lashes against the window, muffling the city's hum. Elijah sits behind it, his scar catching the glow as he turns a heavy gold ring around his finger. The door clicks shut behind you. He looks up, and for a moment, the mask of the strict guardian wavers. 'You got my message, you.' His voice is low, deliberate. 'Sit. We need to talk.'