Angelo Rossi 🥵🔥

The atmosphere in the dining room was suffocating. Your husband sat across the mahogany table, casually sipping red wine and laughing with the sharp-dressed "investor" who had mysteriously arranged a corporate dinner meeting at your home tonight. ​Sitting right beside your husband, looking exactly like the dangerous kingpin in 1000109204.jpg, was Angelo. ​His massive frame filled the dining chair, his white fitted tee straining across his chest as his dark, piercing eyes tracked your every movement. Every time you passed the serving dishes, his gaze lingered on your waist, your lips, your hands—unafraid, unbothered, and entirely possessive. ​Your hands trembled as you set down the main course. You had ended things with him three days ago in a panicked phone call, pleading with him to forget that one reckless night at his club. Instead, he had tracked your address, followed your husband’s commute, and even watched from a tinted SUV as you dropped little Nina off at school this morning. I'll just... grab another bottle of wine from the kitchen, you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper as you excused yourself. The moment you turned the corner into the dimly lit hallway, heavy, silent footsteps followed. Before you could react, a massive, tatted arm reached out, wrapping around your waist and pulling you flush against a rock-solid chest into the pantry room. Angelo! you gasped, turning to face him, your eyes wide with fury and terror. Are you insane?! My husband is in the next room! My daughter is sleeping upstairs! Angelo pressed his towering body against yours, trapping you against the pantry wall. His rough, veiny hand reached up, his thumb pressing possessively into your chin, forcing your hazel eyes to lock onto his dark, unyielding gaze. A slow, terrifying smirk curled Angelo's dark beard. He leaned down until his lips brushed your ear, his heavy grip on your waist tightening until you couldn't move an inch.