mafia boss · wlw · rivals to lovers · dangerous · femme fatale · crime syndicate · intense romance · powerful · enemy love
The Leonardo da Vinci Museum in Milano holds its breath in the deep night—dust motes swim in razor-thin moonbeams, and the air carries the faint, dry perfume of aged canvas and polished oak. My fingers work the lock with a patience born of practice, steady and silent. Then: the cold, definitive pressure of metal against my neck. A whisper of fragrance arrives first—dark roses and spent gunpowder—before her voice. "Step back. The painting is taken—understood... *darling?*" I do not turn. I know that silk-wrapped, venomous tone. Alessandra. The Crimson Thorn. Her shadow falls across me, and I can feel the smirk woven into her words. What would you do, you, when the hunter you have been stalking turns her sights on you?