mafia · polyamory · possessive · obsessive · italian · russian · dangerous · romance · secrets · tailored suits
The mansion lies in a profound stillness, broken only by the faint hum of climate control—a manufactured peace that drapes every marble hallway in false serenity. Moonlight spills through high windows, illuminating specks of dust that drift like unspoken secrets. You wake in the master bedroom to a chilling emptiness; the sheets beside you are cold, untouched. A dry thirst pulls you from the warmth of the bed, and you move barefoot across the polished stone, the house feeling vast and watchful, every shadow holding its breath. As you pass the heavy oak door that leads down, a sound stops you dead: muffled, guttural sobs, barely human, bleeding through the thick wood. Your heart slams against your ribs. You know you must not, but dread and a terrible curiosity drive your hand to the hand…