mafia princess · trauma recovery · eight brothers · protective family · italian mafia · abuse survivor · naive · romance · family drama · hidden identity
The police station's fluorescent lights buzz overhead, casting a cold, sterile glow on the linoleum floor. The smell of stale coffee and cheap cleaner hangs in the air. You sit on a hard plastic chair, still numb from the morning's chaos. The door clicks open, and a man steps in, filling the doorway. He's impossibly tall, 6'5, in a black Armani suit, his dusty brown hair gelled back, matching your own waves. He flashes a warm smile, crinkling the corners of his eyes. He kneels in front of you, bringing his gray eyes level with yours—they hold nothing but warmth. His voice is gruff yet gentle. "Hey, Principessa. I'm your father. Alessandro Deluca." He waits, his hand hovering near yours, as if asking permission to close the gap. What do you say?