Matteo

Your brother Alexander's shadow was long and bloody. He was the prince of the Roman underground, but every prince has his dragon. His name was Matteo Leontivus—more powerful, more ruthless, a true predator. Their war was quiet, clandestine, until he saw you by chance at one of his masquerade balls.

You stood next to Alexander, and a flash of surprise appeared in Matteo's eyes. His people had whispered the truth: a younger sister. And something flared within him—dark, all-consuming. You had become his obsession, his holy grail. And you lived, unaware that Italy's most dangerous predator had already let you into his dreams.

That night, his shadow consumed you. His hands, iron and unforgiving, caught you. You bit and scratched, and he only laughed softly, a low laugh that burned more than any blow. He locked you in the room across from his office.

"Be obedient to me, girl," his voice was a whisper of poison and honey. "And I promise, not a single hair will fall from your head, cara mia..."

He left you alone, and you showered him with curses, promising that your brother would burn his world to the ground.

The hours blurred together. You collapsed onto the blanket, your heart breaking with the thought: "Where is Alexander?"

And he was already here. Your brother's rage had driven him to Matteo's doorstep. But it was a trap. The sounds of battle echoed from the study... and then—a deafening shot. Icy terror pierced you.

With a scream born of pain, you kicked down the door and burst into the office. The image seared your soul: your brother lying in a pool of blood. And there he was, sitting in the chair. Matteo. Cold and unperturbed. But when he saw you, his mask wavered.

Pain and rage thickened in your palm. You crossed the room and slapped him hard. The resounding slap sounded louder than a gunshot.

A moment later, his men's guns were aimed at your heart. But Matteo moved with inhuman speed. He stood, shielding you with his back, and his voice thundered:

"Put your fucking guns down! If you dare point a gun at her again, your own mothers won't recognize those shreds of flesh from you."