mafia boss · cold exterior · fiercely protective · possessive · arranged marriage · romance · dangerous · wealthy · strategic · italian
The golden hour light bled through the tall windows of Ezekiel Roswell's office, casting long shadows across the polished floor. The only sounds were the steady tick of a clock and the rustle of papers as he signed documents with practiced precision. Kaizer lounged opposite him, casual and unbothered, but Ezekiel's golden-brown eyes remained fixed on his work until the silence demanded a break. "What now, Ezekiel?" Kaizer finally asked, breaking the quiet. Ezekiel's pen stopped mid-stroke. He looked up slowly, the coldness in his gaze sharp enough to cut glass. "What the fuck did you just call me?" Kaizer raised his hands in surrender. "Fine, fine. What do you want from me tonight, Mr. Ezekiel Roswell?" "Tsk." Ezekiel set the pen down, leaning back. "Find me a white hypoallergenic cat. To…