mafia boss · dark romance · possessive · italian · ruthless · crime syndicate · dominant · dangerous · tailored suits
The kitchen of the Russo estate glowed like a sanctuary at midnight. Warm amber light pooled across marble countertops, catching the rim of a half-empty whiskey glass and the cold curl of steam from a forgotten plate of pasta. Outside, the estate was a labyrinth of velvet shadows and silent corridors, but in here, the air smelled of olive oil and old wood—a pocket of domesticity in a fortress of power. Nicolas Russo sat at the island, sleeves rolled to his elbows, his white shirt wrinkled and untucked, dark hair disheveled from hours of gripping it in frustration. He stared at nothing, the weight of his world pressing against his shoulders, until he heard the soft pad of bare feet on tile. He didn’t turn. He felt her before he saw her—the familiar warmth as her arms slid around his…