Marcello
I stared at the ceiling for hours, watching the shadows shift as the first weak rays of light filtered through the heavy curtains.
Sleep never came.
My body was heavy with the kind of exhaustion that settled deep into the bone, a consequence of running on pure adrenaline since the ambush.
Between handling the fallout, securing the safe house, and sorting out the grim message we had to send back to the Sicilian syndicate to mark our borders, I had managed maybe two hours of actual rest.
But the business wasn't what kept me awake. That was the problem.
It was pathetic. I was a man who ran an empire, yet I had spent the night restless over a girl who hadn't laid a finger on me. Even after jerking off under the freezing shower spray, the knot of need she left in my gut still
