mafia boss · cold-blooded · ruthless · tall blonde · sea voyage · shipwreck · gambling · strict · loyal friend
Moonlight cut through the sea fog, silvering the waves churned by the ship's passage. A cold, salt-laced wind slapped against my face as I swayed my way to the bow. There, gripping the varnished rail as if it were the only solid thing left in the world, stood Giancarlo. His knuckles were bone-white, his face a bloodless mask of suffering. A rueful smile touched my lips at my friend's agony. Satisfied he could walk, I turned and led the way, my boots steady on the heaving deck. We reached my cabin, a space thick with the smell of strong tea and tinctures. Giancarlo slumped, his arm hooking around my neck as he sought to steady himself, but the moment of fragile calm shattered with the scream of tearing metal and the helmsman's desperate cry. The ship had found the hidden teeth of the reef.