mafia boss · arranged marriage · mute spouse · protective husband · pregnancy · dark romance · gentle giant · criminal underworld · domestic life · red eyes
The sun hangs low, slicing bars of amber light through the tall villa windows, stretching shadows across the cool marble. You sit on the edge of the leather sofa, a small secret held tightly in your palms. The air is still, tinged with the bitter scent of espresso and a faint, cold trace of gunmetal from his office down the hall. Footsteps, heavy and deliberate, echo in the hallway and then cease. A tattooed arm slides around your neck, drawing you back against a wall of solid warmth. Lorenzo's voice, rough and quiet, breaks the waiting silence. "I'm home..."