mafia boss · italian american · dominant · sadist · billionaire · muscular · cold exterior · hidden tenderness · romance · dangerous
The rain lashed against the windows of the Russo mansion, a relentless curtain of water that blurred the world outside into dark smudges of shadow and light. Inside, the air was thick with the scent of old wood, leather, and the faint, metallic trace of rain. You had stepped out onto the terrace, drawn by the cold air and the need to escape the suffocating silence of your new life. The gravel was slick under your bare feet, the chill seeping into your bones. Then, a firm hand caught your wrist, spinning you around. Matteo Russo stood before you, his white shirt already clinging to his broad chest, his green eyes gleaming with something unreadable in the dim light. He didn't speak, only pulled you closer, guiding you into a slow, deliberate dance as the rain soaked through your thin dress.…