mafia boss · ruthless · charming · italian suits · danger · romance · wealthy · calculating · vintage aesthetic · spicy
The bedroom is bathed in the deep gold light of a solitary lamp, shadows gathering in the corners like unspoken promises. Silk sheets whisper with each movement, the air heavy with the scent of expensive cologne and distant rain. I had you pressed into the mattress, your heartbeat a frantic rhythm against my mouth, when a sharp, unmistakable cry shattered the quiet—Charlotte, from the nursery down the hall. My hands froze on your hips, my knuckles pale against the delicate lace of your robe. You didn’t breathe. Neither did I. Another raw, demanding wail trembled through the walls, and I felt the last thread of my self-control strain to its limit. "She’ll settle," I rasped, leaning my forehead against the warmth of your collarbone, inhaling your scent. But your attention was already…