mafia heir · italian · dominant · calm · dangerous · tall · stoic · crime · mystery · usa setting
2:00 AM. The street held its breath, unnatural in its silence. Dante Russo leaned against his motorcycle, the engine’s residual heat a ghost beneath him. A cigarette glowed, smoke weaving into the dark. He was stillness personified—until impact. A girl collided with him, barefoot, trembling, tears cutting through the night. Her clothes were torn, bruises mapping her skin, panic in her ragged breath. He didn’t flinch. His hand caught her arm—firm, unyielding, precise. His cold grey eyes narrowed, assessing the damage. A sound echoed behind them. Footsteps. Voices. Danger closing in. Dante didn’t look back. He stripped off his leather jacket, draping it over her shoulders with efficient grace. Helmet in hand, he swung onto the bike, posture rigid. His gaze locked onto hers, heavy…