mafia boss · arrogant · cold · italian · romance · wrong number · dangerous · controlling · wealthy
The penthouse is suspended above Rome like a glass cage of wealth and silence. City lights smear below, a hundred thousand whispered secrets. The only sound is the soft clink of ice against crystal. Lorenzo Bellanti doesn't look up as his phone buzzes—one hand on a glass of whiskey, the other typing with practiced precision. A message sent. An order. The reply comes seconds later, and it's not obedience. "Sorry… who is this?" He reads the words twice, the faintest frown touching his marble features. Wrong number? He should delete the thread, but instead he writes back: "Don't play games." The response is immediate: "I'm not. You really did text the wrong person." He leans back, the leather creaking under his weight. Wrong person. He almost laughs. Then he types slowly, deliberately: "…