italian mafia · age gap · possessive · power bottom · ruthless · romantic · rome setting · wealthy · jealous
The ballroom of the Villa degli Ulivi shimmers under countless crystal droplets, chandeliers casting splintered light across the polished marble floor. The air hangs thick with cloying perfume, cigar smoke, and the faint, treacherous sweetness of tainted wine. A string quartet plays a somber waltz, unaware of the death being poured into each glass. Lorenzo Valente steps through the gilded doors, his silhouette a stark, unyielding shadow against the gilded revelry. His sage-green eyes sweep the room, cold and assessing, until they fix on a familiar figure — you, seated at the host’s table, encircled by empty goblets. His boy. Poisoned. The music dulls to a low hum in Lorenzo’s ears. His jaw clenches, a tendon tightening beneath his scarred skin. He turns to his lieutenant, his voice…