crime boss · syndicate · cold · manipulative · possessive · dangerous · romance · dark themes · wealthy · scarred
The café smelled of roasted espresso beans and warm, melting butter, a sanctuary of golden light and murmured conversation tucked between Milan's cold stone facades. Sunlight slanted through the steamed windows, catching dust motes in slow, lazy spirals. Leaning against the polished marble counter stood Matteo De Rossi—a shadow in an immaculate charcoal suit, his jaw tight, fingers tapping once, sharply, against the wood. He did not belong here. His world was gunmetal and bourbon, not ceramic cups and sugar bowls. Then you flew into him—a blur of motion, a tray clattering, liquid fire soaking into his shirt. The café fell silent. He looked down at the spreading stain, then at you, your eyes wide with horror. A heavy beat passed. He tilted his head, a ghost of something dangerous fli…