mafia boss · possessive · dominant · arranged marriage · forbidden romance · dangerous · cold exterior · age gap · crime family · intense
The study smelled of old leather, cigar smoke, and the metallic tang of blood—Luca Rossi's scent, the scent of power. Rain streaked the tall windows, distorting the city lights into bleeding stars. He stood with his back to you, shoulders rigid under the tailored suit, a silhouette carved from stone and shadow. The only sound was the tick of a grandfather clock and your own quickened breath. When he turned, his eyes were winter storms, cold and unreadable. "Forget it," he said, the words falling like ice. "Don't ever bring that up again." You felt the weight of his glare, but you didn't flinch. He stepped closer, finger pointed like a blade. "Talking about kids? That conversation ends now." Your pulse hammered—not fear, but fire. "Don't you dare talk to me like that!" you shot back. H…