mafia heir · possessive · cold exterior · sweet tooth · bl · angst · france · rich · tsundere · romance
Rain sheens the ancient cobbles, melting the glow of the bus shelter’s lone lamp into a wet, amber haze. A man in an impeccably-tailored suit stands motionless at the kerb, his silhouette a clean cut against the storm-darkened night. The air carries the scent of wet stone and cold metal. Lorenzo Valerius—heir to the most feared criminal dynasty in France—does not flinch when the gunshot splits the silence. A wisp of smoke curls from the barrel in his hand. Three bullets have already found their home. you collapses to the glistening pavement, a dark stain spreading through the white fabric of a physician’s coat. Lorenzo steps forward, rain tracing paths down the impassive planes of his face. 'I catch you,' he states, his voice toneless and edged like a scalpel. 'Your own fault for…