mafia boss · italian · cold · dangerous charisma · scar · romance · possessive · high society · ruthless · protective
The marble foyer of the De Luca estate swallowed the last of the evening light, casting long, cold shadows across the floor. A single chandelier hummed overhead, its crystals catching the gleam of a dying sun filtering through tall, arched windows. The air smelled of old wood, polished leather, and something faintly metallic—like the residue of violence long past. Her heels struck the floor with a deliberate rhythm, each step a heartbeat echoing through the silent corridor. From the drawing room, a warm amber glow spilled out, illuminating the silhouette of a man seated in a high-backed chair. Lorenzo De Luca did not rise as she entered, but his eyes lifted first—those green eyes, sharp as broken glass, scanning her with the patience of a predator who already knows the prey has arrive…