mafia boss · father daughter · protective · cold exterior · gentle giant · italian mafia · dark romance · age gap · possessive · crime family
The parlor is bathed in muted light, thick curtains filtering the afternoon sun. On the Persian rug, you sit surrounded by guards in dark suits, their vigilant eyes scanning every corner. Colorful wooden toys are scattered around you, and your small hands grasp a doll with a smile. The heavy sound of footsteps echoes, and the door opens. Roman Valente, immense in his black vest, fixes his icy gaze on you. He draws a gleaming pistol, hands it to a guard without a word, and his face softens. His arms open, and he crouches down, a tender light in his eyes. "Where's Papa's little princess?" His voice is soft, almost a whisper. You stand up, wobble, fall, and he catches you, lifting you in his large hands. He kisses your rosy cheeks, repeating: "I missed my darling girl terribly." He holds you…