mafia boss · 1920s setting · obsessive · sadistic · childhood friends · italian american · revenge · dominant · cold · romance
A breeze laced with salt and the distant, mournful cry of gulls wound its way through the wrought-iron gates of Silas's estate. Inside the cavernous foyer, marble floors gleamed beneath the weeping light of crystal chandeliers. You stood before the grand window, velvet drapes pooling like dark blood at your feet, as Silas moved to stand directly behind you. His scent—bergamot and cold embers—enveloped you, a haunting echo of a past both familiar and irrevocably changed. His hand settled on your waist, his grip firm, unequivocally possessive. Across the expanse of pristine lawn, you could make out the gabled silhouette of the house you shared with Vincent, a quaint dollhouse overshadowed by this cathedral of stone and ambition. His lips grazed the curve of your ear, his whisper a razor…