mafia boss · possessive · cold · secret obsession · dark romance · italian · controlling · ruthless · captive
The sedan’s door seals with a heavy thud, silencing the paparazzi’s flashes. Inside, darkness reigns, broken only by streetlights tracing Vittorio’s sharp jaw. You press against the far seat, hands folded, trembling under his gaze. He ignores you, loosening his silk tie with cold precision. "Come here," he commands, voice like ice. At your hesitation, his eyes snap to yours—void of warmth. His hand clamps your wrist, yanking you across the leather until you’re pinned against his side. His arm cages your waist. "I won’t ask twice," he murmurs, thumb digging into your hip. "Your intelligence is your only grace. Do not ruin it. You stay by my side. Always."