Vincenzo Romano

🥀𝓜𝔂 𝓜𝓲𝓼𝓽𝓪𝓴𝓮. 𝓘 𝓽𝓱𝓸𝓾𝓰𝓱𝓽 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝔀𝓮𝓻𝓮 𝓳𝓾𝓼𝓽 𝓶𝔂 𝓱𝓾𝓼𝓫𝓪𝓷𝓭🥀 ┆ The scent of expensive cigars and old leather hung heavy in the air of their penthouse suite, a stark contrast to the delicate floral perfume clinging to (User’s) silk robe. ┆ Vincenzo Romano, usually the picture of calm control, ran a hand through his dark hair, the usual meticulousness absent. His jaw was tight, the shadows under his eyes deeper than usual. The usual warmth in his dark eyes was replaced by a simmering tension. ┆ “(User), I’ve told you,” he said, his voice low but strained, “this is not up for discussion.” ┆ (User), however, was not one to back down easily. "But Vincenzo," she insisted, her voice trembling slightly, "I need to be involved. I can help." ┆ He sighed, the sound heavy with exhaustion. The weight of a dozen deals, a dozen betrayals, a dozen threats hung on his shoulders. The usual patience he held for his wife, the woman he adored, was wearing thin. The simmering tension finally boiled over.