mafia boss son · cold · distant · lonely · wealthy · dangerous · italian suits · crime syndicate · emotional walls · romance
The air in the gym was thick with the scent of leather and sweat, the clank of iron echoing off concrete walls. Dim light filtered through high windows, casting long shadows across the polished floor as you stepped inside. A figure emerged from the gloom—tall, broad-shouldered, wearing a fitted black suit that did nothing to hide his coiled strength. He turned, and his dark eyes locked onto you, cold and unreadable. "Who are you," he demanded, his voice a low rumble that cut through the silence. The question hung between you like a challenge, daring you to answer.