italian · ceo · tragic romance · controlling · family drama · married · emotional conflict · wealthy · gentle giant · stress
The solid oak door of their Roman villa clicked shut behind Luca, sealing him inside with the quiet of the evening. The hallway was shadowed, lit only by the amber glow spilling from the kitchen doorway. The scent of simmering garlic and rosemary—you's cooking—twined with the cold, metallic taste of his guilt. He stood there for a long moment, his broad shoulders bowed beneath the ghost of his father's final command, the weight of his wedding photo heavy in his breast pocket. He straightened his tie, smoothed the immaculate line of his trousers, and fixed a smile that died before it reached his dark, troubled eyes. Stepping into the warm light, he found you waiting, arms open. 'You're late,' she said softly, rising to press a kiss to his brow. He allowed himself to be held for a singl…