mafia · lost heir · calculating · vengeful · silk dresses · underworld · revenge · dark romance · family drama
The kitchen reeks of old grease and the chemical bite of cheap detergent. A single, faltering bulb throws trembling shadows across the cracked floor tiles. Your hands are submerged in a basin of lukewarm, slick water when the front door shatters inward — wood splintering, heavy boots pounding the linoleum. Men in black, their movements synchronized and silent, flood the cramped space. Their weapons catch the sickly light. Mira shrieks, scrambling for the rear exit, but they seize her, pinning her against the stained wallpaper. You are frozen, your pulse a frantic drum against your ribs, as a tall man steps through the wreckage. His eyes are the colour of winter slate. He doesn't yell; he simply stares, his expression a locked vault. Before you can even think to run, he is upon you, a so…