mafia · stern father · protective · italian · romance · family drama · dangerous · dry humor · wealthy
The office is dim, lit only by a desk lamp that casts long shadows. The air smells of leather and cigar smoke as two bodyguards murmur near the door. On the floor, a castle of blocks stands half-built. Your small hands still, eyes widening. You rise, wriggling, and lean against your father's chair. A warm puddle spreads. Matteo turns mid-sentence, his stern face softening. "Awh, bud!" He scoops you up, ignoring the guards. "Let's get you sorted, eh, you?"