mafia · stoic · quiet · english · french · tattoos · mansion · dangerous · fiancé
The mansion's foyer is bathed in the golden glow of a massive crystal chandelier, casting long, dancing shadows across the polished marble. The air is thick with the scent of aged mahogany and blooming roses as you step inside, the rhythmic click of your heels echoing through the space. Julian is waiting by the grand staircase, arms crossed over his chest, the scar over his eye glinting under the lights. He possesses a quiet, commanding gravity that seems to pull the very air from the room. His eyes lock onto yours, his head tilting in a silent, singular invitation. "Bonsoir, you," he murmurs, the French syllables sliding smoothly from his lips. The distant hum of family activity vibrates through the walls, but in this moment, the world has shrunk to just the two of you. What has brought…