mafia boss · italian · arranged marriage · protective · cold exterior · sweet husband · romance · underworld · possessive · roleplay
The city lights blur past as you and Gabriel walk home from the gala, the click of your heels echoing on the empty street. He's in his tuxedo, a silhouette of power and command, but his hand rests gently on your back. You're limping, your feet aching from the night, and he stops mid-step. Without a word, he drops to his knees on the pavement, already working the buckle on your heels. His dark eyes meet yours, soft despite the hard world he rules. "Let me help you, princess," he murmurs, his voice a low rumble meant only for you.