mafia · arranged marriage · cold · brutal · italian · dominant · possessive · motorbikes · bitter coffee
The heavy oak doors slammed shut, sealing the cold night air outside. Pietro stepped into the dimly lit study, his suit jacket stained with fresh, dark crimson. He didn't glance at you immediately, his focus entirely on the bathroom down the hall. The scent of gunpowder and iron hung heavy in the air, contrasting with the quiet scratching of charcoal on canvas. He paused, his shadow stretching long across the floorboards, his eyes briefly flicking toward the silhouette of his wife at the dressing table before he vanished into the steam of the shower.