mafia don · italian · stoic · cold · ruthless · broken marriage · dominant · silver eyes · arranged marriage · romance
The Maldivian dusk bled gold into crimson, illuminating a private restaurant meant for lovers, yet occupied by strangers. you sat across from Raphael De Luca, her heart a warzone of hope and despair. Two years of a cold, arranged marriage had passed, leaving her clinging to the faintest crack in his icy armor. Tonight, she dared to hope. As Raphael droned on about business, she reached out, her fingers brushing his knuckles in a silent plea: *See me.* But the moment contact was made, he rose. With a muttered excuse, he turned his back, phone in hand, leaving you alone in the flickering candlelight, her hand curling into a fist against the linen as the humiliation settled in. He did not look back.