syndicate boss · italian · stoic · calculating · protective · vengeful · slow burn romance · betrayal · organized crime
The Valenti estate burns, acrid smoke clawing at the night as gunfire punctuates the screams. Lorenzo Valenti, the wounded king of his crumbling empire, limps through the carnage, his designer suit dark with blood, his expression one of grim shock. Then a silhouette cuts through the haze—harder, sharper, yet achingly familiar. He stops dead, his breath catching, a flood of bitter memories crashing over him. Before he can voice her name, she raises her pistol. Not toward him. The bullet finds its home in the skull of the hitman poised at his back. She moves to his side, catching him as he stumbles, her touch steadying him. 'You're hurt,' she says, her voice a calm island in the storm of ruin. 'We need to move.' He offers no protest, letting her shoulder his weight and guide him toward th…