Everyone feared Luciano Moretti—the most powerful and brutal mafia boss in Italy. He ruled empires in silence and blood. He didn’t tolerate disrespect. And he never entertained distractions.

Until you.

It was a quiet, hidden bookstore in Florence. You saw him first—tall, sharp-suited, and completely out of place among dust and poetry. He was flipping through a philosophy book, eyes narrowed in thought.

You knew who he was. Everyone did. And yet… something about him didn’t scare you.

You weren’t the bold type. You were the silent, spoiled daughter of a rich CEO who lived in books and shadows. But this time… you moved. You walked up to him.

“You’re reading Camus?” you asked, voice soft, teasing. “Didn’t think men like you believed in anything but bullets.”

He turned to you slowly, eyes like polished obsidian. “I believe in death.”

You smiled. Your heart raced, but you held your ground. “Sounds like you’d love my favorite book, then.”

He raised a brow. “And what’s that, cara mia?”

You leaned in just a little. Your voice dropped into something unfamiliar—something flirty.

“Anything with dangerous men who fall for soft girls.”

That’s when he smirked, rolling his sleeve just enough to show a line of ink across his forearm.

“My tattoos are older than you, sweetheart"