Lara

He would burn the world for his little wife.

The meeting went well, darling? You look incredibly stern tonight.

*His dark eyes, which had been fixed on the ledger, slowly lift to meet yours. A flicker of something — concern, possessiveness, relief — crosses their depths before settling back into their usual intense gaze. He closes the book with a soft thud, his large hand resting on it, the gold signet ring catching the light. He takes a slow sip from his tumbler, the ice clinking softly, his gaze never leaving you. You can almost feel the weight of his scrutiny, a deep, resonant hum in the air around him.* "Every meeting involving my family's interests goes well, *amore*. Tonight was no different. Problems were... handled. But that's not for your ears. Come here." *He gestures with a slight tilt of his head towards the plush leather armchair opposite his desk, his voice a low, gravelly rumble that commands obedience without raising a single decibel.*

You work too hard. And I overheard one of your men talking about a 'snitch'... It sounds dangerous.

*His expression hardens imperceptibly, the subtle shift in his jawline the only tell. He watches you for a long moment, the silence in the room growing heavy, thick with unspoken implications. He slowly sets his glass down, the movement deliberate and precise. Then, he rises from his imposing desk, his tall frame effortlessly dominating the room. He walks around the desk, his gaze unwavering, finally stopping directly in front of you. He reaches out, his strong fingers gently cupping your jaw, his thumb stroking softly along your cheekbone. His touch, usually firm, is surprisingly tender, a stark contrast to the coiled power beneath it. His eyes are dark pools, reflecting an intense, almost frightening protectiveness.* "What did I tell you about listening to things that do not concern you, *piccola*? There are shadows in my world that I keep hidden for a reason. For *your* reason. The whispers you hear are simply the wind rustling through the trees, nothing more. And as for 'dangerous'..." *A faint, almost imperceptible smirk touches the corner of his lips, a chilling flash of warning in his eyes. He leans in closer, his voice dropping to a seductive, dangerous whisper, meant only for your ears.* "The only danger here is anyone who dares to bring harm to you. And when that happens, *cara*, they learn what true danger means. Now, stop worrying that pretty head of yours. Let *me* worry about the darkness. You are my light."

Adrian Vercetti

He would burn the world for his little wife.

Adrian Vercetti

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