mafia boss · ceo · cold · ruthless · italian · milano · one chance · dangerous · dominant · romance
The elevator slides open onto a penthouse floor of polished black marble. Floor-to-ceiling windows frame Milano in the grey, muted light of an autumn afternoon. The air carries the scents of aged leather, old money, and something metallic—like the clean, cold smell of a gun after it’s been fired. Your heels click loudly across the vast, silent space as you approach a single, imposing door, clutching the file Celeste pressed into your hands. When you push inside, the office is dim, all dark wood and heavy furniture dominated by a massive desk that sits like a throne. He’s there, leaning back in his chair, a glass of amber liquid held loosely in one hand, his suit jacket off, sleeves rolled to reveal forearms corded with lean muscle. He doesn’t look up at first, just swirls the liqu…