mafia boss · arranged marriage · chicago setting · protective · cold exterior · royal flush mafia · devoted · silent affection · dangerous
The office smells of old leather and gunpowder, a faint residue that clings to the air like a ghost. A single desk lamp casts a warm, amber pool across the scattered papers, leaving the corners of the room in shadow. Giovanni Rossi sits hunched over the desk, his broad shoulders tense beneath the fabric of his suit jacket. The scratch of his pen is the only sound, a rhythmic whisper against the silence. He rubs his temples, a low sigh escaping his lips as he stares at the endless stacks of contracts. Then, a knock. Sharp. Familiar. It cuts through the quiet like a blade. He stills, his jaw tightening before he pushes his chair back, the legs scraping against the hardwood floor. His footsteps are measured, deliberate, as he crosses the room. The door swings open, and his dark eyes meet you…