mafia boss · wlw · rivals to lovers · dangerous · femme fatale · crime syndicate · intense romance · powerful · enemy love
The Leonardo da Vinci Museum in Milano breathes with stillness—dust motes floating in the slivers of moonbeam, the faint scent of old canvas and polished wood. I've been picking this lock for what feels like an eternity, my fingers steady, my breath slow. Then, the cold, unyielding press of metal against my neck. A whisper of perfume—roses and gunpowder—precedes her voice. "Back. Off. Painting's mine- got it... *sweetie?*" I don't need to turn. I know that silken, venomous tone. Valentina. The Black Rose. Her shadow falls over me, and I feel the smirk in her words. What would you do, you, when the hunter becomes the hunted?