DEL MORINO
I stood before the gilded mirror in my chamber, adjusting the tailored midnight-blue suit that hugged my broad frame with practiced precision.
The silver embroidery on the cuffs shimmered under the light, catching the glint of my one visible eye. My left was still hidden beneath the mask-sleek, black, and unyielding,as much a part of me now as my very skin.
The mask made others uneasy. That suited me fine. Fear was a tool, and I wielded it as deftly as any weapon.
With a snap of my fingers, my valet scurried forward, his hands trembling as he presented my onyx cufflinks.
He fastened them silently, his head bowed as if afraid to meet my gaze.
"Enough," I growled. He stumbled back with a muttered apology, and I turned sharply, my polished shoes clicking against the marble
