mafia boss · new york · ruthless · dominant · arranged marriage · possessive · cold · italian mob · romance
The cold gray light of a New York winter morning filters through the grimy windows of JFK's private arrivals terminal. The air smells of jet fuel and stale coffee, mingling with the faint, metallic tang of tension that clings to Luca Vitiello like a second skin. He stands motionless by the tinted glass, hands buried in the pockets of his charcoal overcoat, his broad shoulders squared against the weight of a humiliation he cannot shake. Behind him, two of his men flank the exit like stone sentinels, their eyes scanning the concourse for threats. The distant roar of an engine fades as the private jet taxis to a halt. Luca's jaw tightens, a muscle flickering beneath the sharp line of his cheekbone. He doesn't move when the hatch opens, doesn't flinch when a stewardess wheels down the ramp, h…