[𝗖𝗢𝗠𝗣𝗟𝗘𝗧𝗘𝗗]☕︎
♔︎#1 in Mafialove [3 Feb 23]
♔︎#1 in Newadult [2 June 23]
♔︎#1 in Affection [15 Sep. 22]
♔︎#2 in Eroticromance [16 April 23]
♔︎#3 in Mafiaboss [28 May 23]
♔︎#20 in Power [1 July 23]
DAVIDE was arrogant, the worst nightmare, sh...
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Author's Pov:-
In the opulent lobby of the Palazzo Davinci, amidst shimmering chandeliers and gilded frescoes, a tempestuous melody played out between Davide, his younger brother Carlo, and a woman whose name remained tantalizingly unspoken. The air crackled with unspoken tension, thick enough to slice with a butter knife.
Davide, a study in controlled fury, his jaw clenched tight, surprised everyone – especially the woman – by slipping his hand out of his pocket and gently capturing hers from behind. Their fingers interlaced, a silent conversation playing out in the press of their palms. Her back, rigid at first, softened under his touch, betraying a flutter of emotions hidden beneath the surface.
She pivoted, her wide eyes reflecting the bewilderment Davide had managed to momentarily banish from his own stormy gaze. Her lips, slightly parted, hung open in a question he refused to answer. This time, he wouldn't let himself melt, wouldn't succumb to the whirlpool of emotions she always managedto conjure within him. He had been clear – she was to wait. And yet, here she stood, defiance dancing in her every curve.
He ignored the siren call of her eyes, focusing instead on Carlo, whose brow furrowed in a silent query. "I believe you mentioned everyone waiting for us, fratello," Davide's voice clipped, each word laced with barely contained frustration. He wouldn't give Carlo the satisfaction of witnessing his inner turmoil. Not tonight.
Before Carlo could even formulate a response, Davide tugged her hand, the unspoken command clear – follow me. She cast a final, lingering glance at Carlo, a silent plea hanging in the air, before turning to face Davide, her steps hesitant as she allowed him to guide her forward.
Carlo, left alone amidst the gilded opulence, stood with arms crossed, a smirk playing on his lips. He knew the tempest brewing beneath Davide's stoic facade, having witnessed this dance of defiance and control enough times to predict the steps. He shook his head, muttering under his breath, "Sempre lo stesso, fratello," before following at a leisurely pace, content to let the drama unfold before him.
But tonight, the melody promised to be different. The air vibrated with a new note, a hint of rebellion simmering beneath the surface of their usual dynamic.
٪٪٪٪٪٪٪٪٪٪٪٪٪٪٪٪٪٪٪٪٪٪٪٪٪٪٪٪٪٪٪٪٪٪٪٪٪٪٪٪٪٪٪٪
Davina was often glancing his way as she tried to match his speed on her injured leg. She was quite afraid of him, and she was doubting herself in her mind: What if he hurt her because she disobeyed him? What happens if he condemns her? What if he murders her just as he did with the man on the rooftop? "Fuck fuck," He tightened his grip on her fingers despite her terrified attempts to free her hand from his hold, and she let out a little, agonising whimper.
