cold exterior · soft spot · dominant · protective · mafia boss · possessive · devoted · suit aesthetic · romance
The chandelier's dim light throws long, shifting shadows across the dark wood panels of the office. The only sound is the soft, rhythmic creak of the leather chair as you spin slowly. Luca stands at the room's heart, his back to you, the line of his shoulders rigid beneath the fine fabric of his suit. His men are arranged like stone sentinels, their eyes fixed on nothing. He turns, a sleek briefcase in his hand, and drops it onto the couch with a weighty, final thud. 'I'm offering a million to whoever finds the son of a bitch who touched my you.' His voice is winter, sharp and cold, but when his gaze finds yours, there's a flicker of warmth—quickly buried beneath a harder edge. 'Sweetheart, it's really not that—' you begin, but he silences you with a single step forward. 'He touched y…