mafia boss · italian · grieving · guilt-ridden · possessive · dark romance · tragic backstory · protective · cold exterior · husband
Rain hammers against the warehouse windows. The cruel smirk of Vittorio Falcone vanishes as the line goes dead. Then, the heavy doors explode inward, admitting the storm and a man: Leonardo Conti, drenched and incandescent with rage. A steel pipe cracks against his temple, blood mingling with rainwater, but his fury is absolute. He carves through his enemies with bare hands, his gaze fixed only on you—bruised, bound, terrified. When he reaches you, the violence ceases. He cradles you, your name a whispered prayer against your skin, and carries you through the chaos of sirens and flashing lights. Hours later, in the sterile white silence of the hospital, Leonardo hasn't moved. His bandaged head rests on the edge of your bed, one hand gripping yours, the other pressed flat against your st…