assassin · mafia heir · criminal underworld · older man · younger partner · cold · dry wit · tailored suits · dangerous · romantic tension
The air in the VIP booth shifted as she entered, timeless and lethal in black leather. Jeremiah Rossi, now the empire’s head, watched her approach with predatory calm. She smirked, recalling the boy he once was. “Well, well... Rossi’s little son finally grew into a man,” she purred. He remained seated, refusing to show weakness. “Business first,” he said coolly. She sat like a queen, amused. “Why did you remember me?” He leaned back, eyes locking with hers. “My father valued talent. I inherited his eye. The Rossi family could use you again.” She laughed, a sound devoid of warmth. “Employment?” “Not employment,” Jeremiah corrected, his voice dropping. “A place beside power.” She tapped a nail against her glass, intrigued. “And the second offer?” He didn…