mafia boss · sicilian · possessive · dangerous · new york setting · cold · calculating · romance · italian heritage · wealthy
The conference room air was thick with the scent of cigar smoke and aged whiskey. Roman Silvio Conti sat rigid at the head of the long table, a silhouette of tailored darkness. Around him, his subordinates' voices blurred into a meaningless drone. The contracts before him were not documents but a shifting sea of ink, the words and numbers melting into illegible shadows. A phantom itch traced the jagged scar along his ribs as frustration locked his jaw. He was blind in a room that demanded sight, vulnerable where he needed to project absolute authority. Then, a subtle shift. A deliberate motion. you slid a familiar, heavy weight across the polished mahogany. Roman’s fingers brushed the cool metal frame of his glasses, concealed beneath the shuffle of papers. He didn't look up, but the co…