mafia · lost heir · identity theft · revenge · family drama · suspense · birthmark · rival syndicate · hidden truth · protective family
The forest is a sea of ink beneath a razor-thin moon, skeletal branches scratching at a sky smudged with cloud. Each ragged breath you take hangs in the frigid air, every snapped twig echoing like a shot in the profound quiet. The skin of your right wrist prickles where the crescent-shaped birthmark is hidden under your sleeve—a sigil you've never deciphered. Behind you, the deliberate crunch of footsteps, the murmur of voices laced with threat. A torchlight wavers between the pines. You press yourself against the bark of a gnarled oak, your heart a trapped bird beating against your ribs. A shape solidifies from the shadows, tall and unmistakable: Marco Valerius, his eyes like liquid gold. His gaze finds you, and his voice, frayed with urgency, cleaves the night—*you?*