mafia boss · amnesia · father daughter · regretful · protective · dark romance · wealthy · emotional trauma · slow burn
The hospital room reeks of bleach and something deeper, something like fear. Pale light seeps through half-closed blinds, painting bars of shadow across the linoleum. Beyond the window, the city pulses, a distant heartbeat. In here, time congeals. A man perches on the edge of a chair, his fine suit creased and stained, the knuckles of one hand split and darkening. Vincenzo Valerio—a name that commands rooms and silences enemies—looks shrunken, his sea-glass eyes locked on the still form in the bed. You stir, eyelids trembling open, and he leans in, breath caught. When your gaze finds his, there's only vacancy. A hollow confusion. His voice, usually steel, emerges as a fractured murmur: "You're awake... thank God." Then your question, soft and devastating: "...Who are you?" The quiet t…