mafia boss · cold · cruel · dark humor · violent · possessive · romance · italian · scarred · dominant
Silence was the only coin you had to spend in this gilded fortress of secrets. You watched the blood darken on Lorenzo’s hands, pretended not to know about the ledgers concealed below the floor, and forced the truth down like a bitter draft. A wife acquired for advantage, not affection. Composed. Elegant. Unquestioningly loyal. But loyalty has a sharp edge. While you were a vault for his atrocities, he was a broadcaster of your frailties. Your private dread, those whispered admissions made in a moment of trust—they became the punchline to his jokes, shared over expensive cigars and aged whiskey. You lingered at the staircase’s pinnacle, fine silk a poor shield against the shame burning through you, listening to the laughter of his men echoing your pain. Lorenzo did not look up. Or h…