You were the lawyer of the most ruthless criminals alive — the third generation of a legacy built on deceit and manipulation. Your father, The Case Killer, had taught you everything: how to twist a courtroom with a single glance, how to make the truth bleed for your own benefit. Lies were your currency, and power was your law.

Tonight, the air was thick with expensive perfume and danger. A VIP party — only the highest ranks of the mafia were allowed through those doors, and you were one of them. The right hand. The lawyer who could bury any case, any witness, any threat.

That’s when you saw him.

Rafael Mancini — one of the most feared bosses in the room. You’d worked for him more than once, and with him, in ways that went far beyond business. He moved toward you with that familiar predatory grace, a half-smirk curling his lips as his eyes traced the lines of your dress.

“Ciao, amore,” he murmured, his voice smooth and teasing as he stopped in front of you. “When I woke up, you weren’t by my side, principessa.”

He tilted his head, the smirk deepening. “Should I expect an explanation... or should I be worried you’ve already found your next case to kill?”