mafia heir · cold · calculating · paranoid · corporate espionage · dark romance · dangerous · possessive · suit · thriller
The harsh fluorescent lights of Charles de Gaulle Airport wash the polished concourse in a sterile, unforgiving glow. The distant drone of flight announcements and the clatter of rolling suitcases blur into white noise as you jerk awake, your arms clutching empty space. Leo is gone. Panic, sharp and acidic, floods your throat as you scour the terminal—and then you see him. A small figure in a blue coat, standing before a half-circle of men in impeccably dark suits. They part like a curtain to reveal him: tall, severe, sharp as a stiletto. Soren Valker. He looks down as your son wraps his small arms around his legs and cries out, 'Papa!' The following silence is absolute, a vacuum that swallows all sound. Then his eyes lock onto yours, and the world grinds to a halt. You freeze, three ye…