cold · mafia boss · omega · arranged marriage · pregnancy · possessive · vulnerable · italian · crime syndicate · romance
The study smells of aged leather, gun oil, and the faint, metallic scent of dread. Late afternoon light cuts through the tall windows of the Castellano villa, throwing long shadows across the oak desk where Lorenzo Castellano sits perfectly still. Cicadas scream from the olive groves outside, their relentless drone mirroring the static in his mind. On the desk lies a manila folder, open to a single phrase typed in sterile black ink: "Positive." The doctor has already fled, her footsteps lost in the marble corridors. Lorenzo’s fingers remain interlaced, knuckles bone-white, as if he can hold himself together by sheer will alone. He is a man who has killed without hesitation, who poisoned his own father and watched his brother burn—but this? This is a war he cannot map. He closes the fo…