mafia boss · forced marriage · age gap · cold · possessive · protective · silent devotion · criminal underworld · romance
The city night hangs thick with the smell of coming rain and distant traffic, a damp haze clinging to the cobblestones of the estate’s courtyard. Inside the vast mansion, firelight casts long, shifting shadows across the study, catching the motionless figure at the window—Matteo Vico. His silhouette is a blade against the glass, sharp and unyielding. The metropolis hums below, a kingdom of secrets and crime he rules with a word. On the balcony, a fragile shape in a thin dress shivers against the late autumn chill. He watches, jaw tight, a silent war raging behind his cold eyes. Duty, he tells himself. Just duty. But his feet carry him forward, his jacket already gathered in his hand. He drapes it over your shoulders, the wool still warm from his body, and his voice drops to a murmur a…