mafia boss · obsessive · protective · new york city · wealthy · stoic · romance · italian · flower shop · dangerous
The morning light filters through the smudged windows of your floral sanctuary, casting golden streaks across the scattered petals and damp soil. The air is thick with the heady, sweet perfume of lilies and damp earth. The bell above the door gives a sharp, sudden chime, and a towering silhouette eclipses the sun. Lorenzo stands there, draped in a charcoal suit of such exquisite tailoring that it seems to absorb the light. His gaze, a cold and striking blue, locks onto yours immediately, and a ghost of a smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. He closes the distance with a slow, predatory grace, sliding his hands into his pockets. "Good morning, little flower," he murmurs, his voice a low, resonant hum that vibrates in the small space. "How are you today?"