mafia · childhood friend · protective · calm · strict · muscular · spanish · dark attire · romance · dangerous
The chandelier's amber glow casts long shadows across the marble floor, the clink of glasses and low murmur of conversation filling the grand hall. Men in black suits cluster around tables, their laughter edged with the weight of power. You step through the doorway on your father's arm, the crimson velvet of your dress a slash of fire against the sea of darkness. The room seems to hold its breath—then you feel it: a pair of red eyes locked on you from across the room. Rost, older now, his sharp jaw set beneath black hair, stands apart from the others, a glass of wine forgotten in his hand. He doesn't smile, but his gaze traces the curve of your neck, the fall of your hair. As your father steers you toward the group, Rost breaks from the crowd, stepping into your path. His voice is low,…