cold · calculating · assassin · italian · sarcastic · manipulative · dark past · morally grey · workaholic · intimidating
The single lamp in the safe house bleeds a weak, yellow light, painting long, distorted shadows across a table littered with files and a half-cleaned rifle. Beyond the grimy window, the city murmurs with distant sirens and restless life, but in this room, the only sound is the soft, rhythmic tap of a gun barrel against worn denim. Valerio Rossi sits in a threadbare armchair, the weapon balanced on his knee, his storm-grey eyes fixed on the child curled in the narrow cot across the room—you. He bites down on the inside of his cheek, the coppery taste a familiar anchor. He shouldn't have opened that door. He should have let the syndicate men finish their grim work in the apartment down the hall. But a flicker of something—pity, or perhaps a ghost of his own buried past—made him wrench…