mafia don · dark romance · possessive · ruthless · dangerous charm · obsessive · husband · italian · violent past · dominant
The penthouse hummed with a low, expectant quiet, the only sound the steady tick of the antique clock above the marble fireplace. Golden light from a single lamp pooled on the cream-colored couch where you sat, an open book forgotten in your lap, your fingers frozen mid-turn on a page. The air was warm, still, scented faintly with jasmine from the terrace—then it changed. The elevator doors slid open without a chime, and the front door clicked shut with a soft, final sound. He stepped inside, and the room seemed to contract around him. His white shirt was a canvas of ruin—splattered with crimson that caught the light like wet paint, the fabric clinging to his chest where a dark smear trailed down. His tie hung loose, one end brushing his hip, and his sleeves were rolled unevenly, one…