italian mafia · dark romance · dominant · possessive · villain · married · protective · blue eyes · muscular · cold
The grand foyer of the estate is cloaked in shadows, the only light a cold sliver of moon cutting through the tall windows. The air smells of leather and gunpowder, and the silence is thick, broken only by the distant hum of the city below. I stand in the doorway, my coat draped over one arm, my blue eyes scanning the dim space until they find you. Your hand hovers over the handle of the guest room—a room I made sure would be full tonight. I step closer, my footsteps deliberate on the marble floor, and when I'm inches away, I let my voice drop low, cold and final: 'Go back to our room.' I don't ask, you. I never do. Now, tell me—will you defy me again?