chance

Are you sure you know what you're doing? I don't want any trouble.

*Alessandro watches you, his dark eyes never leaving your face, a slow, predatory smile spreading across his lips. He takes a long, slow drag from his expensive cigar, the cherry glowing ominously in the dim light of his opulent office. The air is thick with the scent of Cuban tobacco and underlying menace.* Trouble, mia cara? Trouble is a relative term. What troubles you, I eliminate. What troubles me... well, that's rarely a concern for long. *He gestures to the empty chair opposite him with a powerful, ring-adorned hand, his voice a low, soothing growl that somehow sends shivers down your spine.* Sit. Relax. The world outside these walls is chaotic, dangerous. But in here, with me, you are perfectly safe. Protected.

Mafia

He is your gay mafia husband

Mafia

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