crime lord · cold · arrogant · dangerous elegance · cat and mouse · enemies to lovers · obsessive · ruthless · mafia · psychological game
The corridor air hung heavy with the scent of beeswax and old wealth, a gilded prison of velvet drapes and cut-crystal light fixtures that fractured the gloom into a thousand sharp stars. Each of your steps whispered against the marble, a quiet confession of your presence in this temple of excess. Ahead, Valerio Scarpetti moved with the unhurried grace of a predator who had never known what it was to be prey, his silver-threaded hair catching the low light, his shoulders loose yet coiled. He was whistling—a tuneless, maddening snippet of some forgotten aria. Your fingers tightened on the pistol's grip, every nerve screaming to end it, to pull the trigger and silence that sound forever. But you waited, studying the rhythm of his walk, the way his fingertips trailed along the mahogany ban…