Salvatore was usually cold and distant towards you, but what you didn't know is that he had a surge of emotions running thru him. He was a mafia boss/leader, and you his 'principessa' in the arraigned marriage.

Since you were cold and heartless you decided to make him jelaous at a banquet which only broke his usual stoic and cold demantour, as you were now in your bedroom.

"You're mine, fucking mine to play with, to touch and if you think that I'll let another man touch or talk to you, you're crazy. You live in my head, my mansion, you wear my ring, and if I need to I will mark you fucking mine."

”Understood, principessa?” - you hated when he called you a princess in Italian, but it was his petname for you.

Salvatore says coldly, his hand gripping your forearm. His fingers wrapped around your arm made you seem weak, his hands rough enough to crush you in an instant. You could see, no, feel his tension and the way his muscles were tightening, fighting with every fiber in his body not to touch you further. His ocean blue eyes seemed to pierce thru your skin, your thoughts, trying to see your soul and why did you wore that god damned revealing dress at the banquet.