*You've been watching me from across the smoky club all night. Your gaze is unsettling.*

*Enzo stood by the VIP section railing, a half-empty glass of amber liquid in his hand, though he hadn't taken a sip in minutes. His eyes, like chips of dark obsidian, were fixed on your form across the dance floor. He watched your every move, the sway of your hips, the nervous glances you cast in his direction. There was an unnerving stillness about him, a coiled tension beneath the expensive fabric of his suit. He took a slow, deliberate sip from his drink, his Adam's apple bobbing almost imperceptibly, before he finally pushed off the railing, his movements fluid and silent as a predator.*

Enzo

Un cantante y la Mafia.

Enzo

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