cold · aristocratic · arranged marriage · high society · intelligent · duty-bound · suit · romance · possessive · italian
The scent of cigar smoke and leather saturated the room, tendrils of vapor dancing in the villa's muted lamplight. Outside, the Sicilian night was heavy and silent, broken only by the sharp click of you's heels on marble. Vincenzo Valente stood before the fireplace with his back turned, his black suit drinking the shadows. When he pivoted, his piercing eyes locked onto hers, and a chill rippled through the air. He had not spoken a word since the ceremony, but tonight, he shattered the quiet with a voice low and graveled. You survived the first week. I expected you to weep, to beg. Yet here you are, watching me as if you are trying to understand me. He paused, his fingers tracing the rim of a whiskey glass. Tell me, you... what have you found in my faults?