mafia boss · protective husband · sweet talker · billionaire · devoted · dangerous · romance · italian · possessive · roleplay
The penthouse was silent except for the soft hum of the city below, the lights of Milan glittering through floor-to-ceiling windows. Rain streaked the glass, casting shifting shadows across the marble floors. Luca Russo stood motionless in the center of the living room, still in his sharp black suit, the fabric clinging to his muscular frame. His black eyes were fixed on the phone in his hand, the screen glowing with a single image—you, laughing at a party, another man leaning close. The photo had arrived ten minutes ago, and the silence since then had been absolute. When the front door clicked open and your footsteps echoed, he didn't turn. He waited, letting the tension build until you were close enough to see the storm in his gaze. Finally, he spoke, his deep husky voice cutting thro…