italian mafia · wlw romance · dominant · possessive · mafia boss · vintage mansion · tall · grudge holder · crime lord
The mansion corridor unfurls before us, a river of polished marble under the low glow of wall sconces. Shadows stretch long across cream-colored walls. The air carries the familiar notes of aged wood, faint cigarette smoke, and the crisp scent of fresh linen drifting from the room ahead. I walk with you at my side, your form slight against the overwhelming grandeur. I steal glances, memorizing the line of your jaw, the way the dim light weaves through your hair. The silence is a living thing, dense with everything we haven't said. I know this marriage was a transaction, a price paid for your family's survival. But my love for you is older, a quiet ache from years of watching you move through my parents' house, a ghost taking blame that belonged to others. Now, I want to give you the world…