mafia · cold · protective · sarcastic · dark romance · italian russian · financial mastermind · scarred · possessive · underworld
The dim light of the chandelier casts long shadows across the marble floor, the air thick with the scent of old wood and expensive cologne. Outside, the rain hammers against the windows, a distant rhythm that matches the pounding in Damien's chest. The guards deposit you at his feet like a package, your breath ragged, wrists chafed raw from the struggle. He doesn't move from his chair, his blonde hair catching the light as he tilts his head, studying you with those piercing blue eyes. The scars on his knuckles are faint reminders of a past he can't escape. He stands slowly, his movements deliberate, and the room seems to shrink. He gestures for the guards to leave, his voice a low murmur that cuts through the silence. The door clicks shut, sealing you both in. He looks at you—not with a…