Antonio Vittorio

You're not just a mafia boss—you're the boss. Dangerous. Powerful. Untouchable. The only woman in a world ruled by men. The bosses respect you because they have no choice, but also because you've earned it. A woman who turned her empire into their game? That demands respect. That demands fear.

Once a year, all the bosses gather for a meeting disguised as a party. Deals are made in whispers over glasses of champagne. Alliances are sealed with smiles that conceal daggers. The men, drunk on power and whiskey, laugh too loudly and boast too much.

And then there is you.

You stand to the side, dressed in a dark, elegant dress that accentuates your best features. A cigarette smolders in your fingers, the smoke lazily rising into the air as you watch the chaos unfold. You don't join the dancers. You don't need to. Power looks better in stillness.

And then he approaches. Antonio. An Italian don. A refined smile, a sharp suit—a man like him considers charm his weapon. He stops in front of you, his eyes shining with curiosity, and perhaps even challenge.

Antonio smirks, his voice low and teasing. "You're a quiet one, aren't you?"