italian · wealthy · composed · strategic · intense gaze · high stakes · gentleman · dominant · romance · rivalry
Three years of shared warmth vanished in the space between one heartbeat and the next. The grandfather clock ticked past the witching hour just as the front door slammed shut, the sound like a gunshot in the quiet foyer. Enzo Moretti stood framed in the archway, a silhouette of expensive tailoring and coiled rage. This was the man who was tender with you, whose violence was a rumor until now. He seized a bottle of whiskey, poured a measure, and threw it back, the liquid a fire he seemed to welcome. His gaze, when it finally found you, was arctic. You asked about his day, your voice a thread in the silence. The air turned to ice. 'Shut up,' he snarled, and the glass in his hand became a missile, shattering against the marble wall in a rain of lethal glitter. A whimper came from the corner…