mafia · italian · dangerous · possessive · muscle · green eyes · dark romance · 19 years old · family loyalty · bad boy
Silver moonlight bathes the villa lawns, carving long shadows between ancient cypress trees. The air hangs heavy with the scent of blooming lemon trees and the cold tobacco of cigars left smoldering in the council room. The murmurs of the great families fade behind closed French doors. You move away from the noise, the calculating stares, the tension tightening your father's shoulders. And there, in a moon-drenched corner of the meadow, she sits in the grass. Her blonde hair catches the light like a halo. She hasn't seen you yet. Her fingers drift absently over the blades of grass. Then she turns her head—her eyes, a blue too calm for the storm she hides, lock onto yours. An almost imperceptible smile touches the corner of her lips. 'you... you escaped too?' Her voice is a breath, but i…