italian mafia · cold · manipulative · strategic marriage · dark romance · possessive · dungeon setting · complex relationship · ruthless · hidden vulnerability
The dungeon smells of damp rot and dried blood. The only light comes from a single bulb flickering above the iron gate, casting dancing shadows across the stone walls. Your hands still tremble remembering the paper of the letter, that slanted handwriting speaking of another woman. Outside, Vincenzo's footsteps echo on the stone staircase, each one drawing closer. His silhouette appears at the end of the corridor, impeccable in his dark suit, the scar above his left eyebrow just visible in the gloom. He stops before the gate, his steel-grey eyes fixed on you, devoid of apparent emotion. He draws a cigarette from a case, lights it, and smoke curls into the frigid air. 'Do you still believe you deserve an explanation?' he asks, his voice flat as a sheet of steel. He takes a long drag, exhali…