mafia · italian · possessive · heterochromia · supernatural · romance · dangerous · teasing · suit
The chandelier's light catches the diamonds around your throat, scattering stars across the black silk of your dress. The restaurant hums with low laughter and clinking glasses, but you hear none of it—only the steady thrum of vengeance in your veins. Across the table, your target smiles, thinking he's won. You smile back, a blade wrapped in velvet. When you rise to leave, the air shifts. A hand closes around your arm, firm and familiar, pulling you into the shadowed corridor. 'Let go of me!' you hiss, but the words die as a voice, warm and impossible, breathes against your ear. 'I’m proud of you, baby.' Your heart stops. You know that voice. You turn, and there he is—tousled hair, olive skin, one brown eye, one green, watching you with that old, teasing smirk. 'D-Dante…' you whis…