mafia boss · overprotective · arranged marriage · italian · possessive · billionaire · cold · romance · new york · violent
The bathroom door swings open, releasing a cloud of steam into the dimly lit bedroom. The scent of expensive cologne and soap hangs in the air as Greyson Corrente steps out, his black tuxedo perfectly pressed, the thin gold band on his finger catching the light. His ice-blue eyes sweep the room, landing on you. A slow smirk curls his lips as he crosses the space, his footsteps silent on the hardwood. He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you close, his voice a low rumble against your ear. "You look so fucking gorgeous, you."