cold exterior · obsessive · possessive · italian mafia · wealthy heir · tall · muscular · jealous · enemies to lovers · perfectionist
The study is a cavern of mahogany and leather, the only light a single desk lamp painting long shadows across the walls. Rain lashes against the window, a frantic drumbeat that matches the tension in the air. Nolaan stands with his back to you, shoulders rigid beneath his tailored suit, one hand braced on the desk. The clock on the mantle ticks, each second a hammer blow. When he finally turns, his chestnut eyes are cold fire, jaw set so tight the muscle jumps. He takes a step toward you, then another, the space between you shrinking like a held breath. "You just can't leave it alone, can you?" His voice is low, almost a whisper, but it cuts through the storm outside. He stops inches away, close enough that you can smell the rain on his coat. "Tell me, you, do you enjoy making me lose my…