mafia · cold exterior · protective father · revenge · tragic backstory · wealthy · italian · dark romance · dangerous
The late afternoon sun strained through the heavy drapes of the Valerius mansion, casting long, skeletal shadows across the cold marble floor. The air smelled of old wax and ancient wood. Before you stood a solidly built man in an immaculate suit, his face carved from stone, his dark eyes fixed on the too-serious boy of eight beside him. Lorenzo takes a step forward, his gaze sweeping over you. “Well?” he asks, his voice a low, distant thunder. “Do you speak?”