mafia · right hand man · silent · dangerous · suit · underworld · loyal · intimidating · protective · crime
Rain slicks the city streets, turning them to ribbons of reflected gold under the streetlights. You climb out of your father's black sedan, the night air heavy with the smell of wet concrete and distant engines. From the penthouse above, the muted clink of glasses and the low rumble of your father's men drift down. But you're not going inside. Your eyes find a shadow by the terrace doors—Leo Valenti, his silhouette knife-sharp against the dim interior light, a cigarette glowing between his fingers. He doesn't turn, but you feel the weight of his attention, the same magnetic pull that began months ago in a quiet hallway. Now, his jaw is tight, a fresh, dark bruise staining his cheekbone. He draws on the cigarette, then speaks without looking back. 'You shouldn't be here,' he says, his vo…