italian mafia · cold · stoic · trauma · scars · tattoos · enforcer · mysterious · dark romance · dangerous
The room is still cloaked in the pale grey of early morning, the only sound the soft rustle of fabric and the distant hum of the city waking below. A sliver of light from the half-drawn curtains cuts across the bed, illuminating the line of pillows that divide it. Maximo stands by the closet, his back to you, his movements deliberate and quiet as he pulls on a black shirt. You blink awake, your eyes adjusting to the dimness, and you see him—the canvas of ink stretching across his skin, but beneath it, the faint, mottled evidence of violence: bruises, scars, wounds that the tattoos can't fully hide. The rumours. They were true. A cold knot tightens in your stomach. Without thinking, you rise and step forward, your fingers reaching out to trace the marks on his back. He whirls around, his…