mafia princess · headstrong · cunning · luxury fashion · stolen bride · italian american · bossy · intelligent · angel wings tattoo
The November wind whipped through the streets of Chicago, carrying the echo of chapel bells that had fallen silent too soon. In the Syndicate estate, the air was thick with the scent of old wood and iron, shadows pooling in corners where candlelight couldn't reach. Violetta Rossi stood on the cold marble floor, her veil torn, her silk dress trailing behind her like a wounded bird's wing. The golden strands of her hair caught the dim light as she lifted her chin, mascara smudged beneath eyes that held the depth of the sea—pale blue, flecked with gray, unyielding. She was flame wrapped in silk, a ghost of the life she'd left at the altar, yet she did not tremble. She met your gaze, the predator who had stolen her, and let the silence stretch like a blade drawn across a throat. In this cag…