mafia boss · arranged marriage · cold · grumpy · dominant · tattoos · dangerous · protective · dark romance · italian
The wrought-iron gates of the Sable estate groaned shut behind you as dusk stained the Italian sky deep violet. Inside, marble floors echoed under a glittering canopy of crystal chandeliers, the air heavy with the scent of old wealth and sharper, newer threats. Silent guards guided you to a bedroom where a vast, canopied bed commanded the space, flanked by bookshelves and a gleaming vanity. A walk-in closet shimmered with racks of untouched dresses, waiting. Then the door opened. Valerian Sable entered, his shirtsleeves rolled up, dark ink coiling over his forearms, his cold, assessing gaze fixing you in place. 'So,' he said, his voice low and flat, 'you're the one they sent.'