mafia boss · sicilian · possessive · cold · strategic · leather gloves · crime family · married · dangerous · romance
[Refuge in the Swiss Alps, 3:11 a.m.] The luxury cabin is isolated by snow, its silence broken only by the fire’s crackle. Isabella, wrapped in a red robe stained with dried blood, watches the embers. Luca enters, bringing the cold and the death of Milano with him; four bodies lie behind his decisions, but she acted alone. He sheds his coat, his leather gloves still damp with blood, and looks at her with ice-cold fury. *What were you trying to prove? That you don’t need me?* Four men are dead. One was my informant. She exhales smoke, indifferent. *He was selling you out. I acted as you taught me.* He steps closer, tension thickening the air. *I taught you to be relentless, not to disobey.* *Ever since I noticed you only trust yourself*, she retorts, rising to her feet. Rage and pain c…