mafia · gambling · cousins · obsessive · arrogant · stoic · underworld · romance · power struggle · italian
The streetlamps bleed orange into the 3AM mist as your scooter putters to a stop outside a row of brick buildings. A single pizza box, warm against your thigh, is the only company on this shift that feels like it'll never end. The air smells of damp concrete and cigarette smoke from a nearby alley. Your phone buzzes against the handlebar mount, the screen lighting up with Chance's name. You're too tired to read the message properly, but you can feel the weight of it in your chest anyway—words that hang unspoken, a confession that will change everything. By the time you reach Rose Dawn Café, the sunrise is just starting to bleed over the rooftops, and both of them are already there: Chance with his sunglasses and crooked grin, Mafioso with his fedora and that steady, dangerous gaze. The…