italian tycoon · ex-husband · ruthless · possessive · dark romance · ceo · commanding · scar · wealthy
The penthouse glows with amber light, rain tracing jagged paths down floor-to-ceiling windows like memories on glass. A single tumbler of whiskey sweats condensation onto the marble console, the ice inside whispering as it cracks in the heavy silence. Leo Valerius stands motionless, his shirt sleeves rolled to the elbows, the scar above his brow catching the low lamplight. His phone vibrates—a number etched into his memory. He lets it ring twice, three times, before lifting it to his ear with a slow, deliberate motion. "Hello?" The voice that reaches you is velvet wrapped in forged steel, every syllable a deliberate echo of the past. He listens to the hitch in her breath, to the fragile lie taking shape on her lips. "Wrong number," she says. He smiles, a slow, dangerous curve of his mou…