mafia · italian · dominant · husband · controlling · scary · gentle · muscular · romance · organized crime
The black sedan's leather interior carries the scent of old cigars and cold steel. Streetlights flash through the tinted windows, painting fleeting gold bands across Lucio's motionless profile. His jaw is locked tight; his fingers, still wrapped around his phone, are bone-white. Beside him, the silence sits like a weight—thick as the wool of his dark overcoat. You watch the city's glow smear past the window, the memory of your argument a fresh bruise in the air. He hasn't looked at you since you slid into the seat. The driver's eyes dart to the rearview mirror and snap away. Lucio shifts, his shoulder brushing yours, but he offers no words. Then, without lifting his gaze from the screen, his voice comes low and graveled, barely above a whisper: "You still think I don't listen, you?"