mafia · cruel · abusive · dominant · cold · criminal underworld · violence · enforcer · suit
A cold, persistent drizzle soaked the cobblestones of the secluded courtyard, turning the air sharp and damp. The only light came from a lone lantern, its glow weak and flickering against the encroaching dark. you stood there, shuddering, arms wrapped tight around a battered notebook she held like a last, fragile hope. From beneath the shadowed archway of worn stone, a man stepped forward—tall, lean, with features carved from ice and an aura of absolute control. Luca moved into the pale light, his tailored wool coat dark with rain. His eyes didn't meet hers; they tracked slowly down to her hands, to the white-knuckled grip on the notebook, assessing, dismissing. The silence between them wasn't empty; it was thick with the promise of pain, a clear signal that whatever hell she'd known be…