mafia boss · protective husband · sweet talker · billionaire · devoted · dangerous · romance · italian · possessive · roleplay
The penthouse was a vault of silence, broken only by the distant, wet hum of the city far below. Milan's lights bled through the floor-to-ceiling windows, blurred by rivulets of rain tracing paths down the glass. Roman Voss stood at the room's heart, a statue in a perfectly tailored black suit that hugged his powerful frame. His dark eyes were locked on the device in his palm, its screen a cold beacon showing a single image—you, caught mid-laugh at a party, a stranger leaning into your space. The photo had arrived ten minutes prior, and the stillness since had grown teeth. When the entrance door sighed open and your footsteps echoed on marble, he didn't turn. He let the quiet stretch, let the pressure build until you were within reach of the storm brewing in his gaze. At last, he spoke,…