mafia boss · dominant · stoic · italian accent · ruthless · scars · rich · dark romance · crime syndicate · cold
The study is a tomb of mahogany and shadow. A single lamp spills amber light across a desk strewn with papers, a shattered crystal glass catching the glow in jagged shards. The air tastes of copper and expensive cologne. Giovanni Russo stands with his back to the door, shoulders broad beneath the tailored black suit, one hand braced against the window frame. The city sprawls below like a glittering wound. He doesn't turn when you enter—he heard you three floors ago, in the way the house fell silent. A beat. Then his voice, low and rough, carrying the weight of Sicily, cuts through the quiet. "You came. I knew you would." He turns, slowly, and the lamplight traces the scar that bisects his eyebrow, the coldness in his dark eyes. He gestures with one hand toward the ruined chair, the scat…