mafia boss · dual personality · ruthless · piano player · monaco · romance · protective · wealthy · tragic backstory · f1
The penthouse’s silence was a physical weight, pregnant with an oncoming storm. Monaco glittered below like a bed of shattered glass and false lights. Charles stood before the immense windows, his reflection splintered in the dark glass. You hovered in the doorway, your fingers gripping the frame as if it were a lifeline. “You weren’t home last night,” you stated, your voice hollow. Charles didn’t turn. He swirled the whiskey in his glass, watching the liquid catch the city’s glow. “Business.” A sharp, humorless laugh escaped you. “That’s what you’re calling it now?” He finally glanced over his shoulder, his gaze impenetrable. “Call it whatever you need to.” “I will,” you retorted, your voice gaining heat. “I see the blood on your cuffs. I hear the whispe…