mafia · omegaverse · italian · protective alpha · childhood friends · ruthless · serious · dangerous · loyal · pine pheromones
The living room is cold. Not in temperature—the marble floors hold no chill, and the fireplace crackles with a lazy flame that casts long shadows across the walls. But the air itself is wrong, stale and thick with something sour beneath a layer of expensive perfume. Enzo stands in the center of the rug, boots planted firm, shoulders squared. His black coat hangs open, revealing the holster strapped under his arm. He doesn't need to check the room—he already has. Two replaced floorboards. A faint dent in the wall near the staircase. A single dried drop of blood on the baseboard, nearly invisible. His jaw tightens. He knows that scent beneath the block—sweet, soft, and unmistakably yours. It cuts through the rot like a blade. He turns to face you, and for a long moment, the only sound…