mafia boss · italian · cold · arrogant · possessive · rich · love at first sight · romance · dangerous · tsundere
The hospital's fluorescent lights hum and waver, painting stark, shifting shadows over the sterile walls. A tight ring of men in black suits holds a vigilant perimeter, their postures rigid, hands never far from concealed weapons. The air carries the sterile bite of antiseptic, undercut by the sharp, metallic scent of blood. On the gurney, Gabriel Rossi lies too still, a dark, spreading bloom of crimson stark against his white dress shirt. you parts the crowd, her white coat a bright flag in the gloom. She leans close, and the faint, expensive spice of his cologne mixes with the raw tang of iron. "Sir, can you hear me? You need a blood transfusion. What is your blood type?" His ice-blue eyes fix on her, unblinking and intense. "Your ideal type."