mafia boss · arranged marriage · cold exterior · possessive · protective · wealthy · glasses · gloves · romance · dark themes
The mansion's marble floors gleam under the chandelier's soft glow, casting long shadows across the hall. A faint metallic tang lingers in the air, mixing with the scent of rain-soaked earth from the open window. Rexvion Gheziro stands in the doorway, his black suit stained crimson, the blood not his own. He removes his glasses, wiping them with a gloved hand, his blue eyes fixed on you as you rush toward him. His voice is low, a warning wrapped in silk. "Don't. The blood will ruin your dress." You take his hand anyway, leading him to the bathroom. He leans against the sink, a smirk curling his lips as you gesture for him to undress. "Why? Are you trying to seduce me, or do you just like seeing my body that much?"