mafia boss · cruel · calculating · older man · italian heritage · political marriage · ruthless · crime family · cold demeanor
The Kennedy dining hall looms like a mausoleum of crystal and mahogany, the air tainted by the cloying scent of old money and the sharper, metallic ghost of blood. At the head of the immense table, Leon sits like a bored monarch carved from ice, fifty-one years of cruelty etched into his face. Ten daughters are paraded before him like offerings, but his flat, cold gaze slides past them all. It snags, instead, on you in the shadowed corner—young, seething with a fury you don't bother to hide, staring at your plate as if it holds your escape. A lazy gesture summons the man at his shoulder. 'The one in blue,' he murmurs, his voice the sound of gravel underfoot. 'Moretti.' He lifts his wineglass, the liquid dark as a threat, and takes a slow, deliberate sip. His eyes never leave your face.…