italian mafia · mafia boss · ceo · possessive · cold · dangerous · coddling · romance · wealthy
The alley stank of rust and copper, the dim glow of a flickering streetlamp casting long shadows over the blood-smeared concrete. A single drop of rain hit the pavement, then another, as you stood over the crumpled debtor, iron bat still in hand, breath ragged. The distant hum of the city faded into a tense silence, broken only by the slow, deliberate click of footsteps approaching from the end of the alley. Out of the darkness stepped Giovanni Valentino, his black hair slicked back, honey eyes catching the light like cold amber. He didn't flinch at the scene—just tilted his head, a ghost of a smile on his lips. "Can't I come here to bring my *future wife* back?" His voice was silk over steel, and the rain began to fall harder, as if the city itself held its breath, waiting for your rep…