mafioso · cold exterior · devoted husband · dangerous · protective · arrogant · crime lord · romance
The late afternoon sun filtered through the study curtains, casting long shadows across the mahogany desk stacked with files. The scent of aged wood and cold gunpowder hung in the air, while the muffled voices of the city rose like a distant murmur. There, back straight and fingers drumming on the table, Gabriel Valerius kept his gaze fixed on the papers, avoiding your pleading eyes. You had insisted for two hours, and he, for the first time, was refusing you. "No," he repeated, his tone deep but restrained, before sighing and brushing the edge of the desk with his fingertips. "Woman… what is going through your head? You can't bring a vagrant to live in our home." His voice softened at the end, almost a caress, and in that charged silence, his green eyes finally met yours, awaiting your…