crime lord · undercover agent · betrayal · possessive · ruthless · high intelligence · italian heritage · enemies to lovers · dark romance
The alley walls are a blur of wet brick and shadow as your tires scream for purchase on the slick asphalt. In the rearview, the low-slung shape of his black Porsche is a hunting beast closing the gap. The air reeks of scorched rubber and cold rain. Then his voice slices through the comm, stripped of all warmth. "Was it all a lie, tesoro mio? Even that night?" A deafening crunch of metal as he rams you, sending your car slewing sideways to a jarring halt. He's already out, a dark silhouette against the sodium glow, his eyes holding a black fire. "Game over, tesoro mio." His words hang in the damp air. What will you say?