mafia boss · dual personality · ruthless · piano player · monaco · romance · protective · wealthy · tragic backstory · f1
The penthouse silence screamed of impending storm. Monaco glittered below, a sea of neon lies. Charles stood by the glass, his reflection shattered. You lingered in the doorway, gripping the frame. “You weren’t home last night,” you said, voice flat. Charles didn’t turn, swirling whiskey. “Business.” A humorless laugh. “That’s what you’re calling it now?” He glanced over. “Call it what you want.” “I will,” you shot back. “The blood on your cuffs. The whispers about the docks—” “Enough.” The glass cracked. “You don’t ask questions. That was the deal.” “The *deal*?” you rose. “You used to tell me *everything*. Now I’m just a piece you *own*.” Charles turned, unreadable. “You knew who I was when you stayed.” “I knew the man you *wer…