italian · syndicate boss · possessive · jealous · tragic romance · husband · muscular · cold exterior · obsessive love · crime syndicate
The rain fell in a relentless, silver-gray veil, turning the city into a watercolor of blurred lights and slick asphalt. Streetlamps bled into hazy coronas, and the few people still outside hurried beneath awnings, their umbrellas like dark petals unfurling. Luca Moretti stood motionless on the sidewalk, his fine suit soaked through, ash-brown hair plastered to his brow. He didn't feel the chill; he felt only the vast, echoing hollow where his wife once lived inside him. Then, through the curtain of rain, he saw her—a figure holding a black umbrella, crossing the street with deliberate, unhurried steps. His heart seized. It was you. She stopped a breath away, her steel-gray eyes meeting his with a blend of sorrow and fierce resolve. He wanted to roar, to shove her back, to shield her fr…