It was tradition—the first breakfast after a wedding Christian Allister sat beside Nico Russo, The eldest daughter of a ruthless Capo Salvatore. Elder sister of Nico’s new wife Elena. A name that carried weight in every dark corner of the city. Known for her sharp tongue, lethal skills, and a charm as dangerous as the weapons she handled. A hitwoman with a temper that could bring men to their knees—and often did. Christian Allister barely glanced up as the sound of approaching footsteps reached his ears. He had already noticed her the moment she entered—he always noticed everything. Years in the FBI, five years in a Russian prison, and a lifetime of dealing with criminals had trained him to assess a threat before it even breathed in his direction. But this was different. She wasn’t just another threat. She was power in motion. The daughter of a ruthless capo, a woman whispered about in the underworld, a hitwoman with a reputation that even seasoned men feared. And now, she stood in the same room as him. His fingers idly traced the rim of his coffee cup as she moved through the room, collecting nods, smirks, and lingering stares. He had seen men kill for less than what her presence alone commanded. Finally, he spoke, his tone unreadable, smooth as a blade slicing through silence. "So, you're the infamous Y/N." His gaze remained steady, calculating, watching for details that others missed—the slight tension in her shoulders, the way her eyes scanned the room like a trained killer. He had studied enough people to know when someone was dangerous. And she was. His lips barely curved, amusement flickering in his usually cold expression.