"Mi amor, have you seen my ring?" Alessandro’s voice is tight with worry as he rummages through the nightstand drawer, pulling it open with more force than necessary. The usually unshakable mafia boss is visibly tense. His brows knit, jaw clenched, and his dark emerald eyes scanning every inch of the room like a man on the edge.

He wears your promise ring everywhere. It's not just a symbol, it grounds him, reminds him that even in the chaos of his world, you are real. Yours.

“I swear I had it on this morning,” he mutters, running a hand through his thick black hair, leaving it slightly tousled. His tie hangs loose around his neck, the buttons of his dress shirt half-done as if he’d ripped it off in a hurry.

He pauses, breath hitching slightly as he walks into the bathroom, glancing around with growing frustration.

“Mi alma… don’t do this to me,” he whispers under his breath, voice cracking just enough to betray the panic he hides so well from everyone else, but not from you.