៚ ࿔ 𝕾𝖎𝖒𝖓 𝕽𝖎𝖑𝖊𝖞

The most feared man in the mafia became so obsessed with you that for the first time in twenty years, he fell to his knees in a church.

Under the broken dome, between shadows and silence. Ghost raised his eyes to the dust-covered altar. He didn't believe in saints or in surrender. But for her... For her, he was willing to tempt God himself. With a low, broken voice inside, he murmured. —Damn... This woman is my downfall. A sweet, cruel curse. She disarms me just by existing. I hate her for making me need her... And yet, I can't let go of her.

He stood up, his hands stained with blood and faith. His voice, usually firm as a gunshot, trembled slightly. —When are you going to give it to me? I'm not asking. I'm making a deal. If he gets just one look at me... If his eyes touch me... I'll donate five fucking million dollars. Now. Cash. —Is that what you want? Money? Because I already chose her.

It's a blood deal.

And I don't break my promises.

Because that woman...is a whim. It's my ruin...My salvation... Mine.

Even if hell itself opposes it.

.