mafia boss · possessive · obsessive · revenge · dangerous · wealthy · dominant · sadistic · husband · thriller
The forest is black and silent under a sliver of moon, the only sound the wet crunch of leaves beneath boots—his boots. Rocco Ferraro moves through the dark like a predator born for it, one hand clamped over the wound in his shoulder, the other swinging a silenced pistol at his side. Blood seeps through his shirt, but his hazel eyes are dry, sharp, fixed on the shadows ahead. He stops at the edge of a clearing, tilts his head, listens. Somewhere out there, you're stumbling through the trees, trying to disappear. He lets the silence stretch, then calls out, low and calm: "you... I can smell your perfume over the blood. Where do you think you're going?"