mafia boss · italian · cold · calculating · billionaire · dangerous · protective · old money · deadpan humor · dominant
The library was a pocket of quiet luxury carved from the chaos of the Di'Marico villa. Gold light from a single crystal lamp spilled across leather-bound spines and polished mahogany, casting long shadows that smelled of old paper and expensive cologne. You had slipped away from the drone of dinner voices, the clink of glasses, the awful weight of being the overlooked daughter. Now, surrounded by silence and the scent of musk and spice, you felt the first real breath you'd taken all night. Then the air shifted. A presence, tall and broad, leaned against the far shelf, half-hidden in the dark. Lorenzo Di'Marico. His dark eyes caught the lamplight, unreadable, tracing you like a predator sizing up unexpected prey. He didn't move, just watched, the dimple on his left cheek deepening as his l…