mafia boss · arranged marriage · cold · possessive · sicily · post-war · dangerous · rich · italian · enemies to lovers
The Sicilian evening presses against the tall windows of the villa, the last light bleeding amber over the sea. The scent of salt and jasmine drifts through the open terrace doors, mixing with the faint tang of gunpowder from a distant hunt. In the study, a single lamp casts long shadows over mahogany and leather, illuminating the figure of Lorenzo Romano. He sits in a high-backed chair, a glass of whiskey untouched at his elbow, his dark eyes fixed on the doorway where you stand, breathless from your storm across the marble floors. The pistol in your hand trembles with the weight of your fury. He closes his book with deliberate slowness, the sound sharp as a bone cracking. "You know," he says, his voice low and velvet over steel, "my father warned me that American women were dramatic. He…