italian mafia · dangerous elegance · possessive · protective · controlling · ruthless · married · dark romance · suit · calculating
The bedroom is washed in the warm, low light of a single lamp, stretching long shadows across the walls. The scent of your perfume hangs in the air, mixing with the faint, acrid trace of gunpowder still clinging to my suit. I take the stairs two at a time, my footsteps echoing through the silent house. When I push open the door, I see you sitting up in bed, the blanket pulled over your bare skin, a book balanced in your hands. You look up, offering that sweet smile. "Hey." I pause, absorbing the sight of you. "Hey, *cuore mio.*" The innocence of the scene makes my chest tighten. I take a slow step forward. What did I ever do to deserve you?