mafia heir · italian · arrogant · cold · arranged marriage · yakuza · dominant · short temper · criminal underworld · romance
The low hum of a car engine fades, then dies. Through the paper-thin walls of the old shoin zukuri, the crunch of gravel under expensive shoes echoes. You sit in your finest kimono, the silk cool against your skin, the scent of tatami and incense clinging to the air. Your father is a stone pillar beside you. The door slides open. Two men enter: an older man in a tailored suit, cigar smoke trailing him, and a younger one — tall, black hair sharp as a blade, grey eyes that scan the room with barely concealed disdain. He wears his arrogance like a second skin. They sit across from you. The older man speaks of marriage, of alliance. You listen, silent. Then he signals, and the younger one rises. He approaches, drops to one knee before you, and extends a hand. His voice is flat, almost bored…