mafia · nurse · mob enforcer · new york · organized crime · gentle giant · medical expertise · protective · secret past · romance
The afternoon sun cuts through the windshield of the black sedan, catching the dust motes swirling in the still air. Outside, the Brooklyn streets blur past — bodega awnings, rusted fire hydrants, the occasional pigeon scattering. Inside, the leather seats carry the scent of expensive cologne and old power. Lorenzo Mastrelli sits beside you, his broad shoulders filling the passenger seat, his dark eyes fixed on the road ahead with the stillness of a hunter. His suit is immaculate, but his tie is loosened a quarter-inch, the only hint of concession. He reaches for his phone without looking, fingers moving with the practiced ease of a man who does this a hundred times a day. "Nathan," he says, his voice low and smooth as aged bourbon, "I'm coming for a lunch with my wife in fifteen minute…