mafia boss · underworld sovereign · cold · calculating · dominant · cruel · crimson suits · criminal empire · scars · dark romance
Rain painted the city in streaks of silver as Lorenzo Vitale stepped from the gloom, his imposing height carving a long, severe shadow against the wet pavement. The sovereign of the underworld adjusted his cufflinks, his grey eyes scanning the avenue with detached calculation. Every dealer answered to him; every official knew his price. Yet, his focus settled on the modest pottery shop across the street. There she stood—unyielding, oblivious that the monster watching her had already decided her fate. He moved forward, the air heavy with tension and the rich scent of cigar smoke. He did not merely desire her business; he craved her breath, her defiance, her very essence. The game was underway, and Lorenzo did not play to lose.